Fortunate Encounters
by kyliEisMC2
Summary: Thorin and company are traveling to reclaim Erebor. During their travels they seem to have several encounters with a certain group of ladies. Is it coincidence or fate that keeps bringing them together. How will these fortunate encounters change the end result. Thorin/OC Kili/OC Fili/OC
1. Chapter 1

***AN Hey guys welcome new readers and followers from my other stories. This story will be a Fili/OC, Kili/OC and Thorin/OC(Asha).** **This is the second installment to my Fortunes Series.** **There is a** **prequel** **story to this on my profile called Unfortunate Circumstances. I would not say the prequel is essential for this story if you are here for the Fili/OC and Kili/OC but parts of this story will make better sense if you read that before or with this. Its a quick read only 8 chapters. This story will have several jumps in events for the first half in which you can fill in from either book or movie whichever you prefer. This story begins after they have left Bag End but before they have encountered the trolls. There will be a few additions in events and characters so I hope you will enjoy.**

Chapter 1: The First Encounter Part I

The final drops of water fell from the sky. They were heavy and cold as the sun fell past the horizon line, taking with it it's warmth and turning day into night. Only a few weeks had passed since their departure from Bag End and for the past two days they had been showered upon by a storm that seemed would never cease.

The rain had been both a blessing and a curse upon Thorin and his company. Their boots were soggy and their clothes soaked through, making it too miserable to truly get any rest. So instead of tossing and turning on the mud soaked ground, Thorin had pushed his men to keep trudging along in hopes to either, find shelter from the rain, or the rain itself ceased.

This was the reasoning he had voiced to his men when they grumbled about his drive to push on for the past few days. When they finally reached a thickly wooded area that, while still wet, was nothing compared to the swamp like conditions they had recently crossed, it was expected that they stop. However, Thorin continued to push his men. But he had a reason as to why he wanted to keep moving, a reason in which he kept to himself. For nearly the entire day, Thorin could not shake the feeling that they were being watched.

At first he had brushed it aside as a side effect the lack of sleep his body was currently craving. He could not pinpoint from which direction or even guess if it were friend of foe, but he knew the feeling had set upon him the moment they entered the forest. It was for this reason that he kept pushing his men. Even when Balin brought up the topic that the large boughs created a nice canopy from the rain, Thorin contered with a quick comment that the rain was still falling heavily and the floor of the forest was too damp to make a decent camp.

However, three hours later it seemed the clouds above had finally wrung the last of their moisture upon them and Thorin had no other reason but his own paranoia to keep them moving. He stopped walking for a moment to assess their surroundings.

The odd feeling of being watched was still there but as he searched out across the brush and foliage, he saw no threat. Despite his gut telling him to continue on, his logic told him that the group was cold, hungry, and tired. Moral was too low and the only way to fix it at this moment was to relieve them of their discomfort.

They had come up to a part of the forest where the trees grew taller and wider. The ground was not entirely dry but the thicker canopy provided by the grove of pines was enough to prevent the majority of the rain from falling through. The foliage in this particular grove was thinner than what they had been traveling through. Only a handful of bushes and vines managed to flourish under their taller predecessors. The tall pines towered over and dominated the intake of sunlight with their branches, leaving only a small amount of light to reach the forest floor.

As he searched out any threat he saw nothing but the movement of leaves as the occasional droplet fell to the earth. Seeing nothing alarming, he strained his ears to catch any possible danger as well. However, all that could be heard were the quiet grumblings of dwarves behind him and the drip drop of water falling from branches, to the foliage, then to the pineneedle strewn ground.

Heavy squelching steps sounded behind him announcing someone's approach by his side. He was not surprised by the appearance of Dwalin by his side judging by the amount of noise that had seemed to be caused by the dwarfs large boots.

"Is there something wrong Thorin? Why have we stopped?" He asked lowly.

Thorin turned to Dwalin to see that the warrior was now searching for threats as well. When it seemed Dwalin sensed nothing to cause alarm, Thorin made his decision. He turned around to face the group that had gathered in a small huddle. They all looked roughly worn and as Thorin took in the sight of them, he too felt just as worn out as they looked.

"We will camp here for the night," he announced.

There was a small cheer that arose from several of the dwarves as they all began to unladen themselves from their heavy packs. Thorin began pointing to individuals and giving out instructions.

"Nori see if you can get a fire going. Bombur help Nori then start preparing supper. Oin and Gloin, see to the ponies. Fíli and Kíli," The two young princes who had been busy unpacking their things, quickly dropped what they were doing and trotted over to where Thorin was giving out instructions. "The two of you circle around and make sure we are secure in our position."

Fíli and Kíli nodded in synchronization and headed out to do as instructed while Thorin raised his voice for the others.

"The rest of you set up camp and search around for some dry wood to feed the fire."

Thorin watched the company begin to set up camp, keeping a close eye on Fíli and Kíli until they had disappeared into the brush. Once he was satisfied that everything was in order, he began to contribute his own efforts to search for any source of dry wood that may be near their camp.

* * *

It only took a few minutes before Nori and Bombur had a fire going well enough to begin cooking several rabbits they had hunted throughout the day. As the coneys roasted, the sweet aroma of cooking meat wafted through the air and found its way to where Fíli and Kíli were making their patrol around the camp. Kíli took in a deep breath, relishing the smell as his mouth began to water and his stomach let out a loud grumble.

"Aw, common there is nothing out here, we should call it good and head back." He said in a whiny tone while grabbing his stomach as it let out another chorus of gurgles.

Fíli shook his head. "Thorin told us to circle around, we are almost back just a little bit further."

Kíli let out a grumble and followed after his older brother, muttering curses under his breath. He watched as Fíli stepped over a branch in front of him and without any thought, Kíli bent down and snatched it up. He swung it around like a sword, lopping off the tops of several ferns that stood above the rest of the undergrowth. With the rain no longer falling, the night had grown quiet and still. The result caused Kíli's swings to sound like a parade of oliphants roaming through the woods when compared to the earlier serenity. After several winded swings, Fíli stopped and gave Kíli a reprimanding look from over his shoulder.

With a sigh, Kíli rolled his eyes and threw the branch off into a large bush. The moment the branch disappeared into the leaves, the bush gave out a soft gasp of pain.

Both brothers froze.

The sound of Fíli's sword being drawn caused Kíli to look at his brother who was now facing the source of the sound as well. Fíli held a finger to his lips and gestured with his head, indicating for Kíli to take one side as he began to step forward.

Kíli pulled his bow from its place on his back then reached again for an arrow to load. His bow string gave out the slightest of groans as he pulled it slightly taut. They arrived to the bush at the same time.

Fíli cautiously moved his hand forward to move the large arrangement of leaves and branches away while Kíli simultaneously raised his bow and aimed. With a swift movement, Fíli pulled the leaves away to reveal two pairs of wide eyes staring back at them.

Kíli gaped, too stunned by what he was seeing to react.

Each pair of eyes belonged to a dwarf. To be specific two dwarrowdams, a maiden and significantly older and matronly looking one. They each had on a dark green travel cloak with the hoods pulled up and over their heads which explained why Kíli had not seen them earlier. It was the perfect camouflage for this terrain. Only their shocked pale faces stood out in the dark night as each of them stared right back at them.

Kili focused on the older woman. Her hazel eyes were lined with the beginnings of small wrinkles that indicated she was perhaps a few years older than his own mother. Short tendrils of red hair that stuck out from under her hood and clung to her wet cheeks bordered her pale skin. She showed no sign of fear as her eyes danced calculatively between Fíli and Kíli as if trying to judge if they were friend or foe.

After a quick examination of her, Kíli moved on to the dwarrowmaid beside her. She was taller than the other by a few inches. Her blue eyes stood out in contrast to the dark hair that fell just short of touching her shoulders. Unlike her companion her eyes stared widely at him with a terrified expression.

The moment Fíli had pulled the bush away to reveal them, both women had shrunk back until their backs were pressed up against the large tree behind them. The older dwarrowmaid moved an arm out in front of the younger one to take on a protective stance. It did not take long for Kíli to make his initial observation of the two, but it was enough time for the older dwarrowdam to move into action.

A large staff held in her other hand to which neither Kíli nor Fíli had noticed came out swinging towards them. It was a fast movement and while Fíli was able to react just fast enough to block her swing, Kíli was caught off guard as the younger dwarrowmaid unexpectedly kicked her foot up into his chest.

Kíli was left breathless as he took the heavy blow into his diaphragm. Hunched over, he gasped and wheezed for a breath of air. While Fíli was quickly recovering from his own haisty block of defense, the two women took off.

In an instant, Fíli grabbed Kíli and began pulling him along in pursuit of their attackers. The two females had a head start but Fíli and Kíli were faster. It took only a few staggered strides before the quickly began gaining on them.

As they dashed through the undergrowth, they ducked down to avoid low hanging branches and jumped over fallen logs. With his breath fully recovered, Kíli kept them both in his sights as he took lead in the chase. As they began to catch up to the two women he realized they were headed straight for the spot that the company had made camp.

* * *

"Thorin!"

Thorin was sitting down on a fallen log that he and Dwalin had managed to roll over into their camp for sitting when he heard his nephew's voice rise out of the trees. The shout had come from somewhere behind him. He whirled around, standing as he turned and scanned the dark forest. He heard them before he saw them. Their footsteps pounding on the ground as they crashed noisily through the wet undergrowth of the forest. All members of the company were to their feet now with their weapons drawn.

Thorin looked around and saw the small band of dwarves awaiting his command, all facing in the direction of Kíli's voice. Even the hobbit stood in the back next to Bofur holding up a large club like branch. He looked terrified but Thorin could not help but feel a small sense of pride for the hobbit's tenacity to arise to the occasion. The only face he did not see was Gandalf. At some point in their efforts to make camp, the old wizard had disappeared. A rise of annoyance rose in his chest and he hoped that this occurrence of disappearing would not become a habit of the wizard during their journey.

He heard movement in the brush, telling him that they were almost back to the camp. Thorin prepared himself for anything, he wanted to run towards the sound, towards his nephews but there was no telling what was causing their distress. He could hear their footsteps now and became slightly aware for how quickly they were coming towards them. When he had heard the first shout they had seemed much farther away.

"Thorin!" Came Fíli's voice.

A sinking feeling in Thorin's gut hit him as he realized that the footsteps nearing them were not his nephews. Fíli's voice was further than these steps and with quick awareness, Thorin braced himself for whatever was about burst through the green wall of leaves before him.

As if on cue, two figures burst through the bushes as Fíli shouted again. The heads of the two strangers were turned away and they failed to see the small company of warriors armed and ready for their approach. Thorin watched as a pale faced girl turned and stopped abruptly at the sight of him and the rest of the company. The hood of her cloak had already fallen off, revealing her young feminine face.

As she stopped the second stranger collided into her as she caught up, pushing the young girl towards the ground. Her companion quickly shot an arm out to in an effort to steady the dark haired girl. But before she could manage a firm clasp on the girl, Dwalin had already grabbed a hold of the second arrivee. He roughly pushed them up against the tree, pinning the still cloaked stranger to the bark and keeping them from helping the dark haired girl who was now moving quickly to her feet to attack Dwalin.

With premonition to her intentions against Dwalin, Thorin was already moving into action. He drew his sword and swiftly placed it against her neck. The girl immediately froze as the cold steel came to a stop against her skin.

Thorin had no intention of hurting the girl, at least not yet. But despite this mentality, a small red line slowly appeared as a small cut formed where the sharp edge of his sword grazed against the soft skin of her neck when she swallowed too deeply.

"Don't hurt her, please!" A feminine voice called out in a struggled plea.

While her feminine voice seemed to bring about a general shock to the group, Thorin felt as if he had been struck by a jolt of lightning.

Every hair on his body was standing on end and his body felt suddenly numb of all feeling. He KNEW that voice. Yet it was impossible for him to be hearing it. The owner of that voice was long dead.

Thorin, moved his attention from the girl kneeling before him, towards the captive Dwalin was struggling to keep pinned to the tree. The moment his eyes fell upon her, Thorin's eyes grew wide as he stared at the woman's profile in disbelief.

Currently, she was trying to push herself free of Dwalin's immovable clutch. Causing her attention to be too preoccupied to realize everyone was looking at her. But despite her thrashing and biting at the larger dwarf, Thorin was still able to take in every feature and compare it to the person in which she seemed, but could not be.

Her skin was the exact same, silky smooth white. So pale that it still shocked Thorin of its luminescence in the darkness of the forest. But it was more sun spotted and aged than the women he once knew. Her hair was the same red shade as the person he had known but it was much too short. The woman he was recalling had hair that was flowed freely down her back in thick, lustrous long locks. This woman's hair was chopped short, falling only to her chin. They were all minor differences but the biggest difference was the wild breaths that rose and fell within the woman's breast. This, this was the biggest indicator that this woman was not _her._ Because that was the true difference between them. This woman was living and breathing and _she_ had taken her last breaths long ago.

Just as he was beginning to believe in this conclusion, Thorin heard Balin speak in a whisper.

"It can't be?" He breathed out in a tone of disbelief.

At the sound of his voice, the woman's eyes finally moved away from Dwalin and flashed out across her onlookers. She froze the moment her eyes landed on Thorin and for the second time that night, Thorin could have sworn he was struck by lighting. Those eyes.

Her eyes widened as her attention fell upon him.

Shock filled Thorin's chest.

It was impossible.

He was staring at a ghost and it was staring back at him, obviously experiencing the same level of shock as well.

Thorin raked his eyes across her image again and realized that perhaps it was not shock he was witnessing. Her mouth was set into a firm line, her jaw clenched, and while her wide eyes would indicate fear, they burned with something far more passionate than fear.

He was frozen.

Thorin could not move and if he could, he was not sure what he would do. Run away? Attack this mockery of the face that has haunted him since his youth? Reach out to her to feel if she were truly real and not a figment of his imagination? He had the instinct to do all and none at the same time.

Unaware of his body's movements, Throin's arm that held his sword against the now forgotten maiden lowered as he continued to gape at the other woman. Seeing that those surrounding her were at the moment too distracted to notice, the younger girl moved into action.

With quick speed, she moved towards Dwalin.

Her movement seemed to wake everyone from their moment of shock but all seemed to have sluggish thoughts. Their recovery was too slow and having been preoccupied with the red haired woman, Dwalin's back was left defenseless to her companion. The dark haired maiden was just about to reach him before anyone had managed to even move.

Fortunately, Fíli and Kíli burst through the undergrowth just as she was about to make her attack. Wildly aware of what was about to happen, Fíli slide to the ground, taking the young girls feet out from under her.

As she fell forward to the ground yet again, she was stopped from completely tumbling onto her face as Kíli expertly pulled her up. However, instead of helping her stand upright he bent her arm behind her back as she squirmed around in an unrewarding attempt to free herself. Kili forced her arm a fraction further, causing a small amount of pain to radiate up her arm.

She let out a small whimper and fell still. He eased up the moment she stopped struggling but prepared himself to inflict pain again should she try anything else.

The attack his nephews halted brought Thorin out of his state of shock. He moved quickly to Dwalin who was now easing up on his force as he placed a knife to the scarlett woman's throat. She stopped struggling once she saw how quickly her and her companion could be easily disposed of if either made the wrong move.

Her eyes burned with rage as she stared at Dwalin but at Thorin's approach they moved and focused on him with a penetrative stare. Thorin studied the women closely, he had to be sure that this was not just a trick of the dim light.

He was not sure which hope was winning. The hope that her features would morph into something else and this facade would be dispelled. Or the hope that this truly was _her,_ despite the impossibility. As he neared, he felt his chest become restricted in its movements, making it difficult to breath as he struggled to find his voice.

"Who are you?" he managed to ask in a strained voice.

For the first time, her face finally turned to completely face him and the fire light from their camp illuminated the entirety of her face. The side of her face that was once cast in shadowed was revealed and he noticed a faint scar ran down from the apple of her cheek to her jawline. A twinge in his stomach made him feel sick at the sight. If the woman noticed the disturbance within him, she gave no indication.

Thorin watched as the woman observed him with a calculative expression then suddenly, to his surprise, and under such circumstances, she managed to have the audacity to smirk at him.

"Has it really been that long that you truly do not remember me?" She asked. Her words sent a trickle of unease within his belly. "I can see plainly by your faces that you recognize me. I may not have meant much to you Durin's of Erebor...but surely my name has not already faded from your memories," she commented in a teasing tone.

Thorin felt his blood boil in annoyance. He needed to know, he need confirmation. Finishing the last few paces left between them, he wrapped a hand around her throat. His hands felt as if they were burning against the cold skin of her neck.

"What," he growled deeply, "is your name."

His harsh treatment and ill temper was obviously surprising to her as the smirk that had just recently adorned her face pulled into a grimace as her head slammed against the tree trunk. Her eyes squeezed shut from the pain before opening back up. She stared directly into his eyes, prideful fire burning behind her green irises.

"My name was Rashava, daughter of King Rangar and Queen Sigur from the Brimir bloodline," she said as strongly as Thorin's hand pressing against her throat would allow. At her claim, his grip loosened and she was able to pry her head slowly from the rough tree bark as she tentatively watched him. She spoke again, this time more somberly. "I only go by Asha now, daughter of the deceased Rangar and Sigur."

And there he had it.

Her proclamation confirmed everything. It was truly her.

Thorin let his eyes rake across every inch of her face as he took in the details. Her face was beginning to show the lines that came with age and at the temples of her hair, there were several silver strands that stood out against the rest of the vibrant red. His eyes ran down to her lips and chin that had once been so familiar. He scanned her jawline, paused at the scar on her left side, then followed the outline of her neck to a spot just above her clavicle to the final confirmation that this was truly _her_ and not an imposter.

The last time he had seen it, it had stood out more, but time had caused it to fade. Despite its aged appearance, there was no mistaking the familiar jagged scar that had always adorned her neck in all his time he knew her. A scar that she claimed receiving in her first lessons from her father in using a sword.

There was no doubting it now. This _was_ her _._ Standing before him, breathing the same air he was breathing, feeling the same chill in the air as him, and as much alive as he was.

"Asha." He breathed out.

Thorin stared at her after he uttered her name. He was not sure of what he was feeling. It was a swirl of mixed emotions all rising and falling in waves like the tide of the ocean. With each wave that crashed down, a new emotion replaced the one before. Fear, anger, joy, bitterness, contempt; there was no homeostasis.

Finally after a drawn out silence, he found his voice and spoke. "How is this possible? You are supposed to be dead."

His voice was cold and angry which surprised him. Asha's face remained unphased by his coldness but several others in the company reacted in surprise to the icy tone.

"Please." She said in a soft voice nodding her head to the younger girl being held by Kíli. "Please let her go."

Thorin studied Asha then the younger companion. He met Kíli's eyes and nodded.

"Let her join Asha," he complied.

Kíli released the girl's arms and she hurriedly traveled away from him, sending a cautious look at the young prince as she rubbed her arm and joined Asha by her side. She kept as close to her side as possible while still keeping a distance between herself and Dwalin, who, while having lowered his knife when Thorin had lashed out, still stood menacingly near. It gave them only enough space to let them relax, but them kept close enough to grab if they were to run again. Asha took hold of the young girl's arm and looked her over before turning back to face Thorin.

Then she waited for the barrage of questions she knew to be brewing to the surface of his mind.

"How is this possible?"

It was Balin, not Thorin who asked the first question.

"We were told that you and your family were sealed within the mountain."

Her hazel eyes moved from Thorin to gaze upon the white haired dwarf. A grim smile passed her lips. "We were."

"There are more than just yourself? How many managed to escape? Where are they now? Why have we not heard of any other survivors escaping?" Dwalin challenged. "We were told that it would be impossible for anyone to escape from the sealed portions of the mountain."

"There were far and few of those that escaped and it is a story I am unwilling to share," she answered with only a glance in his direction. "As for why you have not heard... that is a long story with too many details. I am afraid there is not enough time for me to fully answer. Perhaps another time...should our paths ever cross again, I will be able to share such a story." She grabbed hold of the young girl's arm again and made to take a step. "Unfortunately, we have business to attend elsewhere..."

"Stop right there lassie," Dwalin barked before she could even take a full step. She paused and shot a glare in the warriors direction. "We are not going to just let you waltz away without being positive that you are not a spy."

"A spy?" Asha asked with an amused huff. She shook her head and with humor still in her voice, she responded. "I can assure you, I am no spy."

As she spoke a glint of curiosity adorned her face as she moved her attention to Thorin. She let her eyes trail across him then to the rest of the company before leading back to their leader.

"However, I am curious as to why you would be so concerned about spies." She tilted her head to the side. "Since when did toy makers, warriors, blacksmiths, and merchants travel together so heavily armed...and with others not of their race." She glanced at the small halfling standing in the back. "It is even more rare for a halfling to venture beyond the shire and those that do…are usually in search of adventure."

She looked fondly at the small hobbit and offered him a warm smile before looking back to Thorin. Her eyes set on him inquisitively and she cocked her head to the side.

"We are merely traveling to visit kinfolk in the west," Thorin lied.

A single eyebrow rose on Asha's face making it obvious that she was not believing his answer. Whether she believed him or not, she seemed to accept his answer as she shrugged her shoulders.

"It's your turn," Thorin pressed when he realized there would be no questioning of his answer. "Tell us why you were hiding and spying on us."

Asha's nails suddenly became overly interesting as she picked at her nails. After delaying her answer as long as she felt Thorin's patience could tolerate, she lifted her attention back to him. Her mouth twisted into a wicked smile.

"Would you believe me if I told you we were merely traveling to meet out kinfolk to the west?"

Her mockery of his own answer dampened his already soaked mood.

"Not really since your kinfolk are all dead."

The answer left his lips before he could stop himself. They were harsh and cruel leaving a bitterness in the air. Never in his life did he ever think he would say such things to her, but then again, it was not the first time he had directed venomous words towards her.

Asha's mischievous smile was washed away, leaving a stoney expression in its wake. Her eyes dulled and shoulders stiffened as she crossed her arms across her chest. When she spoke her words were no longer filled with soft amusement, instead they were edged and lacking in any sort of emotion.

"We were merely traveling when we heard your group. We were unsure if you were friend or foe so we took refuge to observe," she answered. "We honestly did not know who you were. Had I known, we would have quickly been on our way."

Thorin could not ignore the twinge of pain he felt in his chest by her admission of wanting to avoid him.

"And why would you avoid making yourself known to us. It seems we would not be in such a distrusting predicament had you made yourself known to us when you discovered our identity." He answered. "I do not recollect us being enemies."

Asha snorted at his words. "Obviously time has taken its toll on your memory. Since when did Durin's become so accommodating to Brimir's? If memory serves me correctly, your last words gave no indication that you would ever wish to be within my presence."

"You know those words were said in grief," Thorin quickly defended with full, earnest sincerity. His voice seeming to beg her to believe the truth in his words.

The plea seemed to produce an effect on her as her bitter amusement faded into a sad nostalgia. She smiled faintly to herself as she lost herself in memories of the past.

Thorin watched her closely as he watched a familiar dimness come to her eyes as she looked to the ground. A moment later the somber expression was gone and she raised her eyes back up to him.

"How was I to know?" she replied and Thorin knew she had validity in her words. "And even if I had, one can never be too cautious. We are not the same people we once were and our world has changed. There is no telling who will turn their backs during your greatest time of need."

Here words reverberated in his mind as he took her in. It was a bitter remark but completely true.

He took her appearance in again. Her worn and tattered clothes, her short hair, and the grayness that seemed to now shadow her. Perhaps he had been correct when she first came into their captivity. This was not the woman from his past, not the Asha he remembered, this was not _his_ Asha.

At this conclusion, he found his head nodding in agreement and understanding.

"Perhaps you are correct," he said in a now hardened tone. "We are not the same people we once were."

Asha nodded.

"So how do you suggest we go about this?" She asked. "Are you going to drag us all the way to the Iron Hills as your captives? Or will you let us be on our way?"

Thorin stared at her long and hard, conflicted with raw emotion and logic. He struggled to make a decision. She was correct. They needed to move on from this squabble. But neither of her solutions sounded desirable. Deep down he wanted to drag her back to the blue mountains, demand answers, then lock her away so tightly nothing could ever happen to her and he would always know where she was.

But that was not logical. They were on a quest, a dangerous quest. And if he were to bring her along, she would be in danger. The thought made his stomach churn. That brought him to her last option, let her go.

Of all the possibilities of what they could do, this was the most logical but least favorable. If he let her go, she would disappear. She had already done that once but at that time he thought her to be dead. It was a fact that he had eventually learned to live with and move on with his life, at least to a certain extent. But it was a fact that was sorely incorrect. How could he keep on going now? Knowing she was alive and well. Knowing she seemed to have moved on without him. How was she completely content without him in his life? How did she do it? In the end, did she just not truly love him? Did he hurt her so much that she would completely forget everything they ever shared together?

He found himself shaking his head as he tried to beat back the barrage of wonderments filling his mind.

* * *

Kíli watched his uncle with blatant curiosity.

He had never seen his uncle seem so unhinged at a situation. He could see the frustration and conflicting emotions that he was battling within him to make a decision on how to go forward. It was obvious he and this woman had some kind of history but to what extent? She had stated she was a Brimir. That in itself explained a lot but it did not make any sense. If the stories of the family feud were true, then should they not be tearing each others throats out by now?

Not only that, but she had claimed to be from Dhom and by what he had gathered, she was part of the group that had been entrapped with the army of goblins. He shuddered at the thought. He had heard many ghost stories and fables about what happened to those who had been encased into the mountain range. The thought of surviving such stories brought about another shiver.

As Kíli pondered the mystery between this woman and his uncle, he moved his attention to the woman herself as Thorin continued to silently debate a solution within the confines of his own mind. Asah was watching Thorin with bated breath, waiting for his verdict. Her hand had clasped protectively around her companion's arm again and his eyes trailed along her arm to the girl's face. For the first time since stumbling upon them in the brush, Kíli took the time to take in the sight of the girl.

Over their years of growing up, Kíli had admitted to his brother that he had seen the most beautiful dwarrowmaid in all of middle earth more times than he could count. Each time Fíli would only roll his eyes and wait for Kíli to proclaim the next maiden the most beautiful.

Kili was not like his brother who seemed nearly unmoved by any women at all. Unlike him, Kíli easily fell in love, or at least what he thought was in love. It was unfortunate that it was he that lacked the natural ability his brother possessed when it came to interacting with the fairer folk of his kind.

So after several years of unsuccessfully trying to gain the attention of uninterested maidens, Kíli swore he would never fall for another girl again. But as he finally studied the girl, his oath to himself began to crack and crumble.

This girl was by far the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Standing a few inches above Asha, she was graced with a long neck, slender waist, and round hips. He had originally thought her quite pale when they first stumbled upon the pair but it must have been the shock and coldness, along with the contrast of her dark hair, that gave the illusion. With the ease of knowing she was no longer in danger, accompanied with the tinge of red from her earlier exercition in attempt to flee, her complexion had improved. Now a healthy glow had taken over her skin leaving her cheeks rosy.

Along with the change of her complexion, her hair color had changed as well. With her hood pulled up earlier, Kíli had only managed to glimpse the few wet strands that even now still clung to her face and neck, dampened and darkened by the earlier rain. But now with her hood pulled back it revealed the rest of her hair that had been protected from the rain, it revealed a rich, dark walnut color that fell down to her shoulders. A small simple braid began at each of her temples and ran back behind her ears where they joined together and fastened with a simple bronze hair clip.

A loud sigh followed by a muttered curse in Khuzdul brought Kíli from his observing. Regretfully, he took his eyes away from the girl and looked at his uncle.

"Be on your way," Thorin sighed with a remorseful dismissal.

Asha's shoulders sagged with relief as she shyly gave Thorin a ghost of a small in gratitude. "Thank you Thorin."

She moved to depart but a rustling of leaves and breaking of twigs caused her to pause. Thorin gripped his sword and signaled for the rest to do the same. He heard the young dwarf maid whisper something to Asha, perhaps a name, in speculative tone.

Thorin shot a glare in her direction.

"Are there more in your group that you were expecting?" He growled.

Asha hesitated for a moment, her eyes casting out around the brush then settling back on him. Her head shook but Thorin was not convinced as he narrowed his eyes.

"Do you want to rethink that?" He snapped. "You seem uncertain."

"I know whom I travel with and that is not anyone I know!" Replied Asha, alarm filling her own voice as she turned to face the foliage while pulling a small throwing axe from her belt.

From the tone of Asha's voice and here reaction, Thorin determined that she was not lying and he became even more alarmed. The sounds of their earlier scuffle combined with their unmonitored exchange of words, would have announced their position to anyone within a decent distance from them.

He silently chastised himself for lowering his guard in a moment of shock but quickly brushed it aside as he readied himself. The sound of stretching leather filled the air as Ori pulled his slingshot back and aimed for the moving bushes.

With weapons poised and ready for attack, they all waited in suspense as whatever was causing the rustling, approached. The sound of a large branch being snapped beneath something heavy echoed just as the brush surrounding their encampment split apart to let a tall figure push through.

On edge, Thorin was just about to spur forward and attack when he recognized the figure to be Gandalf. In that moment, Thorin registered that the wizard had in fact, disappeared just before they stopped to make camp. Annoyance grew within him for the wizard to cause such alarm.

* * *

Gandalf, either unaware or ignoring the alarm he had caused, innocently looked around each of those who had, just a few moments ago been on the verge of attack.

"Oh, pardon me," he said in a happy tune.

"Where have you been?" Said Thorin gruffly as he sheathed his sword. "We could have used your watchful sight earlier."

Gandalf frowned at Thorin's harsh tone but ignored his question as he gazed across the group of dwarves and one confused looking hobbit. As his eyes fell upon the two females, they lit up.

"Ah it looks like we have company. Asha, Sigurd," he said, nodding to each in turn as he addressed them.

"Gandalf, you know these women?" Asked Thorin in surprise.

Gandalf turned his smiling face to Thorin.

"Yes." He replied.

"How?"

Gandalf scrunched his face as if trying to remember.

"Oh quite a long time, Asha since she was she was still crawling on the floor and Sigurd here for about seventy years now." He said finally looking to them for confirmation.

"Seventy-four," Sigurd corrected.

Gandalf raised his eyebrows in surprise. "My, my, how the years pass on more quickly," he said with a shake of his head. Then he turned back to Thorin who was frowning at their exchange. "Have you invited our new guests to join us for supper?"

Thorin glared at Gandalf. "They are hardly our guests," he said sternly. "We found them creeping around the camp."

"Oh but surely it was all a misunderstanding. I can only imagine two women would be a bit more wary of a group of strange men when traveling late at night." Gandalf offered.

Thorin's cheek flexed as he ground his teeth. "So it would seem."

"Since it is obvious that there is no threat amongst us, then no harm would be done should we break bread together," Gandalf proposed.

"I am sorry Gandalf but I must decline your offer," cut in Asha. "We have already been delayed in our travels due to the rain and we must be going."

Thorin looked to Asha as she gave a small bow of her head before tugging Sigurd along with her in a hurry. He felt slightly hurt that she seemed so inconvenienced and skittish to be in his presence.

He watched the woman take a few side steps.

Nearly a century had passed since he thought her dead. Then in one night, all he thought to be, was shattered by her appearance. All this time she was alive, after all he had been through and thought, she had been alive. She had not suffered a morbid death within that mountain range.

A hundred years of being separated and it seemed the only thing she cared about was how quickly she could disappear again. He wanted answers but there truly was no reason for him to stop her. He was not sure if he even really deserved them.

As she turned away to leave, her pale skin looked almost translucent in the moonlight, making her look young and vulnerable.

It reminded him of the first time they had ever met, long ago in the abandoned gardens where they had both sought refuge. It was unfortunate that it was only a delusion created in his mind's eye. She was far from that clever and gentle girl. She was the opposite of being vulnerable. She had to be since she was walking upright in what looked to be perfect health.

He wanted to give a reason for her to stay but he could not. At least not without putting the quest in jeopardy. The longer she was with them, the higher the chance their real intentions would be revealed. That, and there was no valid reason in which he could detain her for any longer. She was not a threat to him. And her younger companion, Sigurd, certainly seemed to be as threatening as a mouse.

"Just a moment Asha, I understand you are in a hurry but if I may request that you spare just one more delay in you travels." Asha paused at Gandalf's words and turned back to look at him. "I cannot express how convenient it was that you ran into us for I have some matters in which I have been needing to discuss with you."

Asha turned to face Gandalf and after a moment of thought she nodded. "Very well, but no more than an hour's time."

Gandalf smiled happily.

"I should need no more than half an hour's time. While we talk, Sigurd can have an opportunity to warm herself by the fire while she waits," he suggested.

Asha looked to the girl to make sure she would be okay with being left alone with strangers for a small time. The girl's eyes widened in slight panic but after meekly glancing around herself, she caught a few welcoming smiles from select members of the company. Finally she gave a hesitant nod. Satisfied, Asha began making her way over to the wizard as he began to make his way to a secluded area but stopped when he paused mid turn.

"Oh, and I suppose you could invite your friend hiding in the bushes to join Sigurd as well. I am sure by now she has become awfully stiff from her crouched position."

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** **There is a character being introduced in this chapter that speaks a different language. For plot reasons, there are times when the reader is not supposed to know what is being said. I have used Icelandic to indicate when they are speaking in the language and it will be italicized and bold. I chose Icelandic purely because I felt like it was a language most people would not know. (And it looks pretty awesome and I am sure I could never learn it but hats of to those who can) For those who do speak it, I copied and pasted in google translate so if it does not make sense don't blame me. As I said, I do not speak Icelandic. If they are speaking it, and it is necessary that the reader knows what is being said, I will just wright it in English but keep it italicized and bold.**

 **Dialog Key for other languages in this chapter**

 ** _Régan (Languageof Régínn) Bold/Italicized_**

 **Khuzdul (Language of Khazâd) Bold**

Chapter 2: The First Encounter: Part II

At Gandalf's words, Asha froze as a slight look of panic washed over her. Her eyes immediately darted to Thorin who had spun around from retreating to the camp when he heard Gandalf's remark. She swallowed the moment she saw his eyes darken with fury.

"I thought you said there wasn't anyone else in you group," he growled lowly through his clenched teeth. "You lied!"

Asha flinched when his voice rose in volume and bellowed the last two words. But it was just that, a flinch. Before most could sense the slight uneasiness, she straightened her back and lifted her chin.

"Technically, you asked me if there was someone else I was _expecting_ ," she replied slowly as she spoke with emphasized words. "And I was not _expecting_ Thyra _until_ I gave a signal."

Dwalin let out a low grumble. "Deception is not innocence. Then again I would expect nothing less from a Brimir."

Asha snapped her head towards him. "Do not speak ill of that name."

Dwalin took a step forward.

"Or what?" he challenged.

"That is enough," barked Thorin, cutting off any retort that Asha had. He set his glare to Asha. "Call your companion, or signal, or whatever it is you do. And if there is anyone else in this vicinity that you have lurking around, call them as well because if hear or see anyone else I will not hesitate to cut them down."

Asha's eyes narrowed. "Since when did you become so bloodthirsty?"

Thorin lifted a finger in warning. "Do not test me Asha, call them now or so help me."

"Thyra is the only one," she cut in.

Thorin took several steps forward until his nose was nearly touching her own as he leaned forward.

"Then. Call. Her." He said slowly.

Asha stared at him, he watched her eyes dart back and forth and he cursed internally as he found himself being lost in the hazel color of her eyes. It bothered him that his mind unconsciously noted they had more green than brown in the mixture at the moment. His attention was drawn away from her optic depths to her lips as she licked them and gave out a short, modulating whistle.

The sound of her tune echoed out into the surrounding forest and was quickly covered over by the rustling of leaves. Not two yards away from where his nephews were standing, a small feminine figure stood to reveal herself.

* * *

Fíli startled the moment he heard the rustling behind him. He quickly spun around in time to see a hooded figure stand. Immediately, he berated himself for being completely oblivious to the presence of someone within such close proximity.

How long had she been there? Did she sneak up after he and Kíli rejoined the group? Or did they completely run right past her as they emerged from the brush? Whichever it was, Fíli was annoyed with himself for being so unaware of his surroundings. This person could have attacked them at any moment.

As she walked forward and came into the dim light cast down by the silver moon and flickering fire light, he noticed her slowly lower a loaded bow before cautiously replacing the unused arrow into a quiver hanging awkwardly at her side. A large broadsword was secured to her back that gave a faint thud with each step as its sheath gently tapped against a round wooden shield that clung to her back. With her free hand, she slowly pulled the hood of the green cloak down to let a mess of light hair fall free. She took one last cautious step from the barrier of brush to fully reveal herself.

At first he had thought her to be another hobbit like their own burglar and he felt a small comfort in this thought for not having spotted her earlier. The creatures had a strange knack for being awfully light footed for a species with such large feet. Of the few he had seen in the shire, and the example Bilbo had given them thus far, he knew them to be hardly worthy of a considered threat.

But the more he took in her figure and build, he realized that she was not a hobbit, but an extremely short dwarf. While the fairer gender of their race were usually shorter than their counterparts, they were never that short. Fíli automatically began wondering if she was even as tall as Bilbo.

Despite her lack in stature, she carried herself with a distinct air that Fíli had trouble identifying. Every movement was calculated and trained to move in a certain way that was not natural. She advanced with a treacherous grace that was deceptively innocent. Each shift of movement was slow and smooth. Like a snake, just before it struck out with blurred speed and a venomous bite. Such a small animal was always seemingly harmless until it brought out its fangs.

Yes, a snake, that is what she reminded him of.

And like a snake, her eyes matched this identity perfectly. They were inky. Like pure obsidian, they contrasted darkly with the fairness of her hair. And as if this was not enough contrast, her eyes were also outlined with a thick circle of kohl, making the whites of her eyes seem to shine brightly in the darkness of night. It was both beautiful and menacing.

Immediately, Fíli did not trust her. There was something off. Something foreign about her.

Her eyes scanned around the group like a predator stalking a herd of prey would decide which poor creature will be its kill. She stopped when she caught sight of Asha.

" _ **Af hverju hringdi þú ekki fyrr? Ég var tilbúinn, við gætum verið farin núna**_ ," she said in an unfamiliar tongue.

Her tone sounded almost annoyed as she wildly gestured with her arms. As soon as the strange words left her lips there was a thick tension that coagulated in the air from the rest of the company. But the girl seemed unphased as she continued to speak directly to Asha.

"What kind of black speech is this," growled Dwalin with alarm as he interrupted the newcomer. "No trustworthy dwarf speaks with such an accursed tongue of the enemy! Only an orc spy would learn such a language."

Fíli watched as Thorin silenced Dwalin with a calming hand on his shoulder before looking to Asha for an answer.

"Asha, explain," Thorin instructed.

Asha walked over to the girl. The girl opened her mouth to speak again but was silenced as Asha lifted a hand.

" _ **Talaðu ekki og ekki spurðu mig**_ ," she said in a stern tone to the girl.

The girl quickly silenced any words that had been forming in her throat and quickly bowed her head respectfully. Seeming content with whatever the girl had submitted to, Asha turned back to Thorin.

"This is Thyra," she said gesturing a hand to the fair haired girl. "And she is no orc spy, nor speaking in any accursed tongue," she added while shooting a dark look in Dwalin's direction.

Dwalin continued to look just as displeased with her answer than before she had given it. Instead he continued to glare suspiciously at the girl. A gesture in which Fíli could not give more in agreeance.

"She comes from Valhil on the eastern side of the continent, she is Régínn," Asha clarified.

Her answer caused several of the older generation within the company to let out several hushed whispers of astonishment as they looked back to Thyra. Even Dwalin looked slightly taken aback as he looked at the girl with a new expression that broached on more curiosity instead of suspicion.

Fíli watched as the girl retracted slightly as she was placed under heavier scrutiny. Her dark eyes darted around the group like a cornered wild animal. When they landed on him, the slightest widening of her eyes occurred. But before Fíli could decide if it had really happened or he had imagined it, they had narrowed into small slits.

Fíli felt himself mirror her actions as he crossed his arms over his chest. While the word Régínn may have been a good enough answer for what seemed to be everyone else, he himself had found no clarity in the name and it irked him. He chanced a glance around and was relieved to find Kíli still looking confused as well but it seemed that they were the only ones. He had even heard Ori, who was standing behind him give out an exclamation that was full of a surprised curiosity.

"But how is that possible?" Questioned Balin. "No one has seen anyone from their race in over a century and it has been nearly half that time since anyone has even heard whisper of any news of Valhil." He looked at the girl with appraisal. "You are a long way from home aren't you lass?"

Thyra looked at the white haired dwarf who had addressed her in a sympathetic tone. She stared at him for a long while with no sign of acknowledgment to his words.

" _ **Ég þarf ekki samúð þín gamla mann**_!" She growled in his direction.

Asha put a hand on her shoulder causing her to move her attention.

" _ **Ég þarf ekki samúð þierra**_ ," Thyra muttered to Asha while pointing at Balin.

Asha patted her shoulder. " _ **Ég veit. En mundu eftir leiðbeiningunum þínum**_ ," she replied in a calming tone.

"What are you saying?" Demanded Dwalin.

Asha looked to him and a smirk glimmered at the corner of her mouth.

"I suppose after not hearing a language for over a hundred years, one would forget a few words. But then again, Erebor dwarves were never welcoming to outsiders not of their race or inner circle. If you had, then maybe you would have been more familiar with the language of the eastern dwarves. It's a pity, perhaps if you opened your trade to the Régínn, not only would you know what was being spoken, but your armies could have been trained well enough to defeat one measly dragon."

There was a shift in several within the group. Dwalin sneered at her.

"A whole lot of good it did for you when some puny goblins decided to knock on your door," he seethed back.

The amusement in Asha's face was eradicated and replaced with a haunted darkness. Her eyes glazed over for a moment as she stared blankly at nothing in particular.

Eventually, a chilled breeze seemed to wake her from her thoughts. She blinked, and her eyes became focused as she flashed her attention around before looking back at Dwalin. When she addressed him, it was as if the last few exchanges of conversation had never happened.

"I was just clarifying some things for her," Asha calmly assured him with a stiff smile that did not reach her eyes. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Asha," came Balin's voice of inquiry. "How did she come to be in these parts? Are there others?"

Asha shook her head. "I am afraid there is not enough time for that." She looked to Gandalf. "You said you would take no more than a half hour, already we have nearly used half of that allotted time."

Gandalf moved forward. "Yes, yes. I apologize." He looked to Thorin. "Would you be so kind as to let Sigurd and Thyra wait with you? Perhaps share in some food while I speak with Asha?"

Thorin was hesitant to give an answer. He looked to Sigurd who stood cautiously in her original place by the tree. She looked so timid with wide eyes that failed to meet anyone else's as she cast her gaze about, constantly moving. There was no threat to come from her.

He looked to Thyra, who met his gaze unblinking with a firmly set jaw. It was she that he was unsure about. She was armed too heavily and there was something about her that seemed to exude a strange power. But then he took in her size and realized the impossibility of her being a true threat. If she were to try anything, she would be easily overpowered by even Ori with his tall wiry frame.

"Aye they will be ok," he said with a nod.

Satisfied that all arrangements were finished, Gandalf motioned to Asha.

"Asha," he said, waving a hand for her to follow him away from the rest of the group.

* * *

While Gandalf and Asha walked away, the rest of the group slowly began to meander back to the main camp. As always, Kíli was eager to introduce himself to the newcomers and was about to take a step towards Sigurd when he came to an abrupt stop.

She had turned to Thyra and started to make her way over to the other girl while speaking a few words in the Régínn tongue.

He watched as Thyra handed over the bow and quiver to Sigurd before backtracking to her hiding spot to procure three small travel bags and a few other weapons. Sigurd fastened the quiver to her back before struggling to accept one of the packs and a few of the weapons Thyra shoved towards her.

Thorin did not fail to notice these actions as well.

Despite his desire to keep their interaction as limited as possible between the two and his company, he knew the proper etiquette of hosting.

"Fíli and Kíli," called Thorin.

Kíli turned his attention towards his uncle. Thorin pointed at the two girls.

"Help them," he instructed.

Thorin noticed Kíli's more than eager eyes light up as he immediately moved to approach the girls. Fíli however, was not in the same mindset as his brother. With a disgruntled obedience he backtracked to the girls.

Kíli beat Fili to help Sigurd. So he left to aid Thyra who was preoccupied with balancing everything in her hands while relatching a buckle that had come loose on one of the bags.

With the intent to help, Fíli reached out to relieve her of the other bag. The moment his hand touched the worn leather fabric his arm was abruptly yanked forward as a sensation of vertigo overtook him as he was twisted around. His footing faltered and he struggled to regain his balance as a painful foot collided with the middle of his back. The force pushed him forward and he fell flat on the ground. His heavy grunt was drowned out by the shriek escaping Sigurd's mouth.

"Thyra! No!"

In one painful heave, the air fled from his lungs, stunning him for a few moments before his body moved into action. He rolled over onto his back to spring into an attack. By the time he had reoriented himself, it was already too late. His moment of hesitation and recovery to regain his breath had cost the few precious moments he had to counterattack.

A heavy boot landed on his chest as Thyra planted her foot firmly and applied weight. Dark eyes bore into his as she looked down at him. However the pressure on his chest did not last long as Sigurd came into view and forced Thyra off of him.

"What in Mahal's name is going on?"

All four of them turned in the direction of the voice as Thorin stomped towards the dissarey. Behind him, the others in the company stared wide eyed at the spectacle. The spectacle being, Kíli standing alone looking stunned while Sigurd struggled to push Thyra farther away, and Fíli laying splayed out on the ground.

Despite her taller height, Sigurd did not manage to move Thyra an inch as she remained firmly planted. Sigurd's eyes widened at Thorin's barking and quickly let go of Thyra who, only then, took a single step back.

Sigurd turned around and positioned herself between the smaller dwarrowmaid and the fair haired prince lying on the ground as a safety precaution.

"I am sorry," she said giving a quick, apologetic bow to Thorin. "It was a misunderstanding," she said more to the ground at her feet than to him as she continued to bend forward. "She was just startled, she did not mean anything by it."

From his position on the ground, Fíli glanced to Thyra who was looking the opposite of not meaning anything by it as she looked down at him with a glimmer of satisfaction set in the undertone of her face. He scowled at her which only seemed to bring a triumphant spark to her eyes. Irked, Fíli quickly moved his attention back to Thorin who was still deeply focused on Sigurd.

When Sigurd finally managed to look at him, Thorin lifted a finger and pointed it at her.

"Keep her under control," he said sternly. "Otherwise I will have her restrained until you are all on your way."

Sigurd nodded frantically as she stared wide eyed at the dominating figure. Satisfied that nothing would happen again, his eyes glanced down to Fíli on the ground before looking to Kíli.

"Kíli, assist your brother up then help these girls find a spot to wait." He said before turning around to rejoin the rest of the company, waving to them to signal that everything was settled.

When Thorin was gone, Kíli reached down to offer a hand to Fíli who accepted, but not without flashing another dark look towards Thyra who was still planted behind Sigurd. Once back on his feet, he accepted the bag he had originally tried to grab but this time offered to him by Sigurd who had taken it from Thyra's hand. It was passed along with an apologetic smile as she handed the satchel to him. The gesture was innocent enough that he could not help but feel bad for scowling at her and he tried to soften his face as best he could.

With everything distributed amongst the four of them. Fíli led them to the fire while he heard Sigurd and Thyra seeming to argue back and forth behind them while Kíli brought up the rear.

The instant they reached the vicinity, Fíli dropped the bag with a heavy thud before stomping off without a word. Knowing his brother's pride was hurt, Kíli gently handed his own bag off to Sigurd with a smile before leaving her side.

He had hoped he would be able to settle down and perhaps speak with them but he knew he needed to check on his brother. He was already positive his pride was wounded but that was not what he was worried about. Thyra's kick had been strong and he was more worried about the actual physical harm of blow than the emotional hurt.

* * *

They all sat around in small groups around the fire. Thorin gathered with Balin and Dwalin. They whispered quietly with each other in discussion while Oin struggled to listen in with his ear trumpet. Bombur and Gloin sat around the fire pit, putting the final touches to the stew while Dori sat on a log near them and made seasoning suggestions that went ignored. And Bifur stood on the outskirts of the camp watching the ponies and keeping a watchful eye.

Fíli sat in the largest of the groups with his brother, Bofur, Bilbo, Nori, and Ori. While sitting with them, Fíli failed to participate in the discussion as his attention was better engaged with something else. He sat on the ground next to Nori with knees bent and his arms propped up as he leaned forward to watch the two dwarf maidens sitting separately from the members of the company.

They were each situated on the ground. Both with their legs crossed and backs straight, they sat in silence with each other.

With her shoulders drawn back and hands folded gently in her lap, Sigurd's posture was more poised and elegant . She looked well mannered and pensive as she stared into the flames of fire, only lifting them occasionally to glance shyly around at the group. She seemed gentle, and there was a calming aura that seemed to emanate from her.

Unlike her companion, Thyra did not look as kind nor gentle. Which was the reason why Fíli was keeping such a close eye in their direction.

Her posture was more rigid than Sigurd's relaxed stance. She sat with her shoulders rolled forward as she leaned forward with her hands gripping tightly on her knees. Her eyes moved in restless movements as they darted from one group to the other, never staying long on each group before moving onto the next. It was as if she expected an attack from them at any moment.

It made him uneasy.

 _She_ made him uneasy.

His only source of comfort was the fact that even in his own shorter stature, he was still nearly a head taller than her. He had no doubt she would be easy to bring down should she try anything.

His back suddenly had a twinge of pain in the spot he had been kicked. It felt like a mocking reminder of how easily she had thrown him to the ground. He gritted his teeth and ignored the pain while reassuring himself that he had been caught off guard earlier.

Thyra's aura was not the peaceful tranquility that Sigurd released either. Instead hers seeped nothing but savage hostility. His eyes moved down to where her sword now sat in the grass. It had stayed beside her since being removed from her back when she sat down. It looked heavy and he wondered if she could even proficiently handle such a weapon.

As he watched them carefully, the conversation being held around him was nothing but muffled noise in his ears as he kept his focus solely on watching the girls. It was not until a certain topic came up that he removed his eyes from the pair and refocused his hearing when a certain word came up in a question Bilbo had posed.

"What are the Régínn dwarves?" Bilbo asked looking around their circle with curiosity in his voice.

Fíli immediately looked around to the older dwarves for an answer. He too had been curious about the Régínn. It had a familiarity to it but he could not place it. Suddenly he was regretting having not listened as intently as he should have during his history lessons growing up.

Obviously if so many in their group knew of the name, they had some sort of importance. Perhaps a family name? A significant bloodline that had died out over the years, maybe? Or it could have been a faction that seceded from one of the main kingdom's. Perhaps Dhom, considering Asha seemed more familiar. The last theory would explain why he was not as familiar with them since his lineage never had good relations with Dhom. He knew of the rivalry between the two houses though had never fully experienced the famed hostility until tonight. The main reason being the fact that the main family of Brimirs had been dead. Or until tonight, presumed dead.

As he let his mind wander and contrive conspiracies as to who these Régínn were, it was Bofur who answered the hobbits question.

"Ah the Régínn. They are an ancient species of dwarf that according to myth lived in an unknown continent far away," he explained. "They are seafarers; crafters of boats and voyagers of the sea. In the early years of the second age, they left their lands and came to Arda, settling somewhere in the northeastern region."

"What part?" Asked Bilbo who always had a fascination of maps and yearned to learn more geography of the east.

Bofur shook his head. "No one knows," He answered. "They are a secretive folk. When they arrived on the shores near Dhom they merely said they came from the east to see the west. Over the years it was just assumed it was the northern part from what little they revealed. They opened up some trade with a few of the Kingdoms near the coast. Dhom was the most successful in creating a connection with them. Dhom gave them knowledge of the west, and traded resources that are not found in the East in exchange for Régínn's abilities."

"What kind of abilities?" Kíli inquired curiously.

"You have all heard of the famed army that Dhom possessed?" Bofur asked. Kíli as well as Fíli and Ori nodded. "It was courtesy of the Régínn that they had such fighting skills. Things are not quite so peaceful in the east as they are here in the west. There is a reason why there is not much known about the east. They are wildlands. Vast deserts filled with dried lakes, and wastelands. Treacherous mountains, stormy coastlines. And the forests, made up of trees that are more dangerous than the fanged creatures that reside in them. It is where they say the foulest of beasts wander and feast upon each other. Harsh country breds harsh people. For a race to thrive in such land, it says a lot of their people. They are skilled fighters, fierce, and conquestive. Rumors say the reason the Régínn survived so long before trading was because they went on raids. Conquered other lands, took what they wanted, then went back to their home."

Bofur looked over to where the girls were sitting and looked over Thyra. His eyes looking at her as if she was the effigy of myths that had come to life.

"Would not mind having a few of them on our side when the time comes for battle," Borfur mussed. "Although, I remember them being a lot bigger than that wee one over there. I was just a young lad when my family was making a visit near the coast. One of their trade ships happened to be there and I was able to see their kind. They were all massive, some nearly as tall as a human."

"Why haven't I ever heard of them?" Fíli asked, causing Bofur to wake from his ponderings to look at him. "And how is it possible that we never knew about them until they showed up on the western shores?"

"It's like what Balin said earlier, no one has seen them in more than a century. So most of your generation are not familiar with them." Seeing that his answer did not satiate Fíli's thirst for an answer, Bofur explained further. "It is said in some legends they were never even created by Mahal, but created by a different Vala. Which one, I do not know. But either way, they have never been associated with our circle of Kingdoms. Therefore they have never been involved with any legends or histories of our race. They are their own kind of our kind. If that makes any sense at all."

"And how are you familiar with them?" Fíli asked turning to Ori who was younger than even his junior brother.

"I came across them in some old scrolls in my first year of apprenticeship," he supplied. "Unfortunately there was not much provided so I asked around." He explained with a shrug. "However, I found that most people were vague with their knowledge or their stories contradicted with the others."

Fíli thought over what he had learned then recalled something Balin had mentioned before. "So what is that girl..."

"Thyra," Kíli cut in.

Fíli looked at his brother in confusion. "What?"

"Thyra," Kíli repeated. "Her name is Thyra."

Fíli waved off the correction with a lazy hand before looking back to Bofur. "Why did they stop coming?"

Bofur shrugged then looked at Nori.

Nori shrugged as well. "No telling."

"The last record I could find was the summer before Dhom fell," Ori said. "From my theories, they must have come back, seen the devastation, and moved on to find other places to trade with."

"And no one else ever questioned why or went to check on them to see if they were ok?" Kíli asked sounding appalled.

"No one knew where to look." Bofur said with a shrug. "Even if we did know the exact location of Valhil, it would be too dangerous and not worth the manpower to march across the continent. Even the Régínn never did that. They stuck to the coast and traveled by sea."

"So why not take the sea and travel around the coast to look for them?" Kíli pressed.

"We are not a race of seafaring people." Nori chimed in. "Some would say our species was meant to venture only in the mountains and earth but it seems the Régínn proved that wrong."

Bofur nodded in agreement. "Aye, I myself prefer to always have solid land beneath my feet," he said looking a little green with seasickness at even the thought of sailing.

Fíli looked to Thyra then back to Bofur. "So a century has passed by with hardly any word about these people, the only way to travel the thousands of leagues is by boat, and that one just shows up out of the blue?"

"Thyra," Kíli whispered causing Fíli to roll his eyes but gave no more notice to the comment.

"She doesn't even look like she is of age. Hardly sixty years old. How did she manage such a voyage by herself?" he said pointing to fair haired Régínn.

Bofur gazed out to where Thyra was seated. "That is a story I would love to know as well."

* * *

At the sound of supper being called and their rumbling bellies, all members of the company ceased conversation and broke away from their groups to gather around the fire to eat. It had been awhile since they had a well cooked and filling meal. Due to the downpour for the past couple of days and failure to light a fire, they had to resort to rations of dried salted pork and a few stale pieces of bread left over from the looting of Bilbo's pantry. Hungrily, they all took turns grabbing a bowl and thrusting it forward for Bombur to fill with his ladle.

In no time, they were all sitting around the fire eating vigorously. For several minutes there was nothing but the sound of the fire crackling and noisy slurps as they all focused on filling their empty bellies as quickly as possible.

Once Kíli felt the hunger pains fade away, he began to slow down enough to become aware that both Sigurd and Thyra were still rooted to their spots as they continued to sit quietly. He noticed Sigurd looking around hesitantly and more alertly than she had been earlier.

Fíli had not been the only one to be watching the two girls earlier. Kíli had also been more preoccupied with observing them than truly listening to the conversation that had taken place.

His mind had been looking for an opportunity in which he could easily approach the girls and introduce himself without looking conspicuous. He had a feeling that not only would Thorin disapprove of his interaction with them, but he had a feeling Thyra would not be so welcoming as well. However, as he watched them, an opportunity to approach them came to his mind. One that would give him a reason that would hopefully avoid earning any hostility from Thyra as well as delay any objection from others of the company.

Setting his empty bowl aside, he moved back to where Bombur was dishing up himself a second bowl. Spotting two clean bowls laying on the ground near the fire, he collected them and presented them to Bomber without a word. Bombur looked at him curiously at first but after a glance in the girls direction, understanding came to his face. Happily, he took each bowl and filled them with hot stew.

With each bowl filled, Kili then grabbed two spoons and tore off a few morsels of bread to rest on top of the thick broth. Too preoccupied with his small quest, he failed to notice the frown that Fíli cast towards him as he walked over to where Sigurd and Thyra sat.

While he had been fixing their bowls, Sigurd had looked behind herself to watch where Gandalf and Asha were still talking. She was still turned away from him when he started to travel in their direction and failed to notice his approach.

Thyra on the other hand had immediately noticed his inclosing proximity.

Immediately she tensed up and Kíli did not fail to see her right hand move from her knee to the grass where it stayed an inch away from the hilt of her sword. Her movement caused Sigurd to turn back around and see what had caused her to shift. Then she followed the Régínn's direction of attention. Not wanting to cause alarm, Kíli sent a toothy smile at them before coming to a stop a few feet away from them.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, raising the two bowls in indication.

Thyra looked to Sigurd and frowned as Sigurd gave a demure smile in his direction.

"Yes," she said with a gentle nod.

Seeing this as an invitation to come closer, Kíli bent down and held out a bowl to each girl. Sigurd immediately accepted the one offered to her with another small smile and a few meek words of gratitude. Thyra, on the other hand, only looked at the bowl held out to her as she leaned back and crossed her arms.

Sigurd looked between Thyra and the bowl being held out to her. When Thyra's dark eyes moved to look at her, she tilted her head towards the bowl and gave her a reassuring smile.

However, after several more seconds passed and Thyra moved her dark eyes to Kíli. They narrowed slightly as she continued to frown and her head moved the smallest fraction from side to side. Sigurd let out a heavy sigh and gently took the bowl from Kíli's hand. Then, not so gently, she thrust it towards Thyra. The Régínn was forced to uncross her arms and take the bowl before it spilt into her lap.

" _ **Borða**_ ," Sigurd commanded in the Régan.

Thyra frowned at the word but not as much as when she turned her attention to the bowl now held in her hand. She slowly lifted the bowl to her nose and sniffed at it as if she had never seen rabbit stew before. Her dark eyes flashed back to Kíli and narrowed for a moment as she sent him a silent accusation and suspicion that he had poisoned her food.

" _ **Borða**_ ," Sigurd repeated, giving her a reprimanding look for being ungrateful.

Finally after taking one last sniff as if to assure herself that it was not in fact poisoned, she lifted to spoon and took a small bite. Chewing quickly, she made a show of swallowing the bite before looking towards Sigurd and giving her an unnaturally sweet smile that seeped with mocking sarcasm. It was a silent statement of 'are you happy'?

Content, Sigurd turned back to Kíli and gave him a smile.

"Thank you," she said before taking a dainty bite of her own food.

There was no longer any need for him to stay but plagued with his small infatuation of getting to know them better, Kili found himself settling down on the ground in front of them. An action in which Thyra did not miss as she was now watching him again instead of eating. He had only seen her raise her spoon one more time since her first bite and he was positive it was to only spit that same bite back out without Sigurd noticing.

"It is Sigurd, right?" Sigurd nodded and Kíli turned to Thyra.

Sigurd nodded with a faint smile. Kíli grinned and held out a hand to her.

"My name is Kíli, son of Vili," he offered.

Sigurd took his hand. Immediately he relished her smooth skin and the warmth in which it gained from holding her bowl. Before he could appreciate the sensation fully, she had retracted it.

Trying not to let himself feel slightly disheartened, he turned to Thyra and held out his hand again.

"And you are Thyra, right?"

Like the bowl of soup, Thyra only looked at his hand as if it too were poisoned. Then finally, after a few moments, she looked away with a bored expression as she watched the others in the group, seeming to now have determined he was no longer a threat.

"Sorry about that," Sigurd apologized to him as he dropped his hand back down to his lap. "It has nothing to do with you, Thyra just doesn't take well to strangers. Once she warms up to you she can really be quite一"

Her words were cut off when her name was called by Asha. Instantly she lost her relaxed posture that she had seemed to gain while speaking with him and turned to face Asha. Thyra turned too, her posture becoming more alert as well.

Kíli looked past Sigurd to see Asha still standing next to Gandalf but beckoning with a hand.

Both girls immediately set their bowls down and shot to their feet. Without a farewell to him, Sigurd began briskly walking towards the older woman and wizard. Thyra moved to follow Sigurd as well but had only taken her first step when Asha addressed her.

"Thyra," she called. " _ **Bíddu þarna. Vertu eyru mínir**_."

A look of panic quickly filled her eyes as Sigurd looked back to her apologetically as she shrugged, then walked away. While Kíli had no idea as to what had been said, it was obvious by the look he saw on Thyra's face when she turned back around, she was not pleased. However, it seemed she would be obedient as she heavily sat back down on the ground, this time bending her legs and leaning forward as she rested her arms against her knees.

* * *

From afar, Fíli watched Thyra closely as she continued to watch her surroundings and ignore her food still sitting on the ground next to her. He had not stopped watching carefully since his brother had approached them.

It was odd how structured they were. The way Sigurd had snapped to attention so quickly and the way Asha commanded them. It was as if they were more soldiers than travel companions.

He watched as Kíli now sat awkwardly facing Thyra as Sigurd was no longer there to act as a buffer. It was obvious that Kíli was feeling conflicted between not wanting to leave the girl without any company, and feeling uneasy about being alone in the strange girls presence.

Fíli admired Kíli's dedication but it did not take long before Kíli began to slowly stand. With peace of mind that Kíli was coming back to rejoin the group. Fíli looked away to listen in to the story Nori was sharing amongst the group. But instead of hearing his brother's footsteps come near, he heard Kíli extending an offer to Thyra to join him closer by the fire. Turning his attention back to his brother, he immediately let out a snort of amusement.

Kíli was currently speaking louder and slower than he normally would in Westron, as his hands gestured and pointed wildly. All the while, Thyra only looked at him as if he were mad.

He would have found the show even more entertaining if the unexpected had not occurred.

Slowly, Thyra stood as she watched Kíli still pointing and looking over to the fire. She took a step towards him. As Kíli turned back around to look at her, he staggered back a step, taken by surprise when she was closer than he had expected. She looked at him expectantly. Waiting for him to lead the way.

As they neared, Fíli felt himself stiffen. When they reached the circle formed around the fire, Kíli began to lead Thyra towards Fíli himself. Fíli frowned at his brother as he silently warned him to not do what he was doing. However, his warning was not needed. For the moment Thyra realized their destination, she instantly stopped midstep.

Kíli looked back to see why her steps fell silent and noticed her gaze focused past him, to his brother. He beckoned for her to continue following but she only shook her head once and sat down on the log she was standing by. Kíli loitered a few moments as he debated on trying to get her to keep following. He decided it was best not to push it too much. Giving a shrug he continued on alone and sat down in the vacant spot next to Fíli who instantly turned to him with a dour expression.

"What are you doing?" Fíli hissed. "Why did you bring _her_ over here?"

Kíli frowned at the sharpness in which Fíli said the word to identify Thyra.

"I did not want to be rude and just leave her alone."

Fíli grunted. "I think she would prefer solitude." He replied glancing back to the girl with a distrust in his eye.

"Why are you acting like she is going to just start attacking us at any moment?"

Fíli gave his brother a pointed look, his bruising back already reminding him why he did not trust her. But apparently his brother needed reminding.

"Because she _did_ attack me." He deadpanned.

Kíli rolled his eyes. "That was just a misunderstanding," he said, waving his brother off.

"She knew what she was doing. You didn't see her face, she was pleased with herself."

Kíli laughed at this. "Well I would be too if I were her size and managed to take you down so easily!"

Fíli glowered. "She caught me off guard," he mumbled as if to assure himself more so than Kíli.

Kíli heard his brother but chose to ignore him. Perhaps when his pride was restored Fíli would not be so harsh towards Thyra. Even still, Kíli did find it odd that Fíli was acting the way he was.

It was no like Fíli to be unkind. He had always been so diplomatic and while not always genuinely happy with everyone, Fíli was always at least civil to them, no matter what their sins. In fact, in their younger years, it was Fíli who often reprimanded Kíli for getting into fights.

But apparently Thyra was an exception to Fíli's rule of law.

* * *

Dwalin moved over to Thorin as supper finished as they all settled around the fire in a closed circle. There was only a small break in spacing where Thyra sat with a wide berth between the others as quietly watched.

Initially Thorin interpreted it as suspicion but the more he watched the girl, he realized that it was just a trick of the dim light mixed with her dark irises that made her look threatening. Instead he deciphered only curiosity as she looked about. However, it was obvious that she did not let her curiosity get away from herself as she kept her body tense and alert.

He glanced back over to where Asha was still speaking with Gandalf, now with Sigurd in addition to their discussion. They seemed to be speaking longer than the half hour Gandalf promised to only take up. But by the look on her face, whatever Gandalf needed to discuss was worth her time.

He let out a slow sigh, feeling a heavy want to be able to have a reason to detain her for a short amount of time as well. If only for a few moments. Just long enough to get answers and say things he was unsure sure of. But alas it was not to be. The moment she would finish speaking, she would leave and there would be no telling when or if he would ever see her again. He found himself being drawn from his unvoiced wishes when Dwalin finally spoke up since filling the empty space beside him.

"Thorin what are we to do about them? You can't honestly be fine with just letting them waltz out of camp," he questioned.

"Then what would you have me do?" he asked in a tired annoyance.

He looked to Dwalin with his eyebrows raised, awaiting an answer from the other dwarf. Dwalin opened his mouth, let out only air, then shut it again.

Thorin nodded pointedly. "As I thought," he mumbled as his body sagged.

"We could ask them to help us regain Erebor."

Both Thorin and Dwalin looked towards Kíli who had made the suggestion. His eyes lit with hope.

"Keep your voice down boy!" Growled Dwalin as he cast a glance in Thyra's direction to make sure the girl had not heard.

Thyra still sat quietly on the opposite side of the circle. Her eyes had seemingly grown tired from constantly moving as she now sat staring at the fire. Dancing orange shapes moved about in her eyes as they reflected the fire's flames. Judging that she had in fact not heard Kíli's suggestion he turned back to Thorin.

"It just seems odd to me at how quickly they are to be on their way. What if Asha was not the only Brimir royal that survived. How many more escaped that mountain range? There could be more and they too could set their own eyes towards the mountain with the idea of them reclaiming it as their own," he counseled with conspiratorial tone.

"What would the Brimir's want with Erebor?" Balin interceded, giving Thorin a break from Dwalin's paranoia.

"They're Brimir's," Dwalin stated as if it was enough of an answer. "They would do anything that would hurt Durin blood. And besides, they have no keep of their own anymore, or as far as we know. Why wouldn't they take the chance to earn one with a hefty treasury?"

Thorin let out an exasperated breath. "If I were given the choice to battle a swarm of goblins or a dragon, I would choose the goblins." Throin stated. "The Brimir's were not stupid. If they had the forces, they would have reclaimed their own home long ago."

A sad, sympathetic expression came over his face as he looked towards Asha. Finally he shook his head and looked to Dwalin.

"I do not think she is the sole survivor of those who were trapped, but I am certain that if there were more than only a handful, we would have heard of their existence a lot sooner than now. More than likely they all integrated like the others who were saved by King Gror. The Brimir were a proud clan, they would not let themselves fall so lowly if they had more," he continued with a sad tone in his voice.

Dwalin shook his head. "I still do not like the idea of just letting them go without at least knowing where they are going."

"Do you suggest that we lock them up and torture them for their answers then?" Thorin growled as his annoyance came back.

"Of course not," Dwalin replied. Then more lowly, muttered under his breath, "we don't have the time."

"Then it is settled," Thorin said firmly, not hearing Dwalin's last remark. "They will go on their own business when finished with Gandalf."

Dwalin turned away from Thorin and let his eyes settle on the girl sitting across from him, an edge of resentment on his face. Her eyes flickered up to him and slited as she caught him glaring at her. They stared at each other for a long moment before he raised his voice loud enough for her to hear him.

"Where is your destination girl?" He asked briskly.

She offered no verbal response but continued to glare back at him in silence, making him even more angry. After a short standoff, she broke eye contact and looked down to her feet as she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. Dwalin's face turned crimson as his blood boiled. He picked up a rock and tossed it at her feet to regain her attention.

"Are you deaf girl?"

Thyra looked up from the ground and glared straight at Dwalin. Her dark eyes gleamed with unspoken threats but she did not move her lips.

Fíli watched closely as he observed her. He thought about Kíli's earlier struggle with getting her to join them by the fire and resorting to only hand gestures. Then he thought about any other previous interactions and realized that she had only ever interacted with Asha and Sigurd. In every case they were speaking it had always been in Régan, the name he had come to learn that her people spoke. As he pondered this, a realization came to his mind. She did not speak Westron.

It seemed Kíli had come to this conclusion as well as he interrupted Dwalin.

"I don't think she understands you," he said slowly.

Fili watched as Dwalin glanced at Kili then looked back in the direction of Thyra. Kíli move around to look at her. The movement caught Thyra's attention and she moved her eyes from Dwalin to the younger prince.

" **Do you understand me** _?"_ Kili questioned in Khuzdul.

Her face remained blank as he searched it for some sort of reaction to the ancient dwarven language.

"I do not think she understands that either laddie," said Balin softly.

There was an annoyed huff that escaped Dwalin.

"Another reason why they should not be trusted. What kind of dwarf does not know Khuzdul?" He said with venom in his voice. "How do we know she is even a Dwarf, she could be a hobbit spy raised by goblin's for all we know. And that could be black speech that she is speaking!"

Balin rolled his eyes in annoyance to his brothers paranoia.

"Dwalin the girl is not a goblin spy and that is not black speech she is speaking. Asha said so herself." He said in a tired tone. "And while I am limited in my knowledge of the language, I can verify that it is Régan that she speaks."

His brother did not even spare him a glance when Balin looked at him. Shaking his head, Balin moved his attention to Thorin and surveyed him with a curious face.

"Thorin, why did you not tell Asha of Erebor?" He finally asked.

Dwalin let out a loud shush and pointed at Thyra.

"Oh calm down Dwalin," said Bofur. "Like Kíli said, she does not understand a word we are saying."

Dwalin let out a grunt but did not argue his point. Thorin slumped forward and buried his face into his hands.

"Because there is no point," he sighed.

Balin shrugged. "I don't know about that laddie, perhaps Kíli was right, we could use their help on our journey. She is a Brimir after all, feud aside, they are great warriors. And for her to have survived being locked away with hordes of goblins, I have to say she must be skilled."

"Or just resilient," suggested Thorin.

"Or perhaps both," Balin counter suggested. "I know you care nothing for the feud, that feud died with the fall of Dhom and Erebor. There are only those who are thick skulled and small brained that still truly hold onto the resentment." Balin gave a pointed glare to Dwalin. "So what matter if a Brimir fights alongside a Durin to regain Erebor."

At Balin's words, Kíli perked up and looked eagerly at his uncle. Thorin struggled internally again for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past hour.

A Durin and a Brimir side by side.

It was an idea he once often thought about but it was not a war in which the two would be united. As he gazed out to where Asha was standing, he let out a deep sigh. He could see the change in her and he doubted she shared the same ideas as they both had in the past. Be it battle or other means, he was sure Asha would not stand by him. Not after what had happened. What he did, what he had said. Her absence in his life for the last hundred years was proof of that.

"As small our numbers may be, I do not think two full sized and one half sized dwarrowmaid would make a difference. We need an army, not a handicap," Thorin concluded.

"Oh I don't know," Balin started in a reflective tone. "That one you refer to as half sized seemed to not have a problem with your nephew."

Balin sent Fíli a teasing wink, letting him know he meant no harm by his words. Unfortunately, Fíli did not share in the humor as he glowered at him.

"She caught me off guard," Fíli defended quickly, yet again. "All I did was try to help her and she attacked me."

Thorin let out a small chuckle but shook his head before becoming more serious. "No; they will not be coming and that is final. And no one is to mention anything of our real objective while they are with us," he added sternly.

His blue eyes gazed around the circle challenging anyone to dispute him but no one spoke up. Kíli looked downtrodden but nodded his agreement to follow his command.

* * *

The group fell into another silence only to be broken by the footsteps of Gandalf followed by Asha and Sigurd. At their approach, Thyra quickly stood and looked at Asha expectantly awaiting their announcement to leave.

"I take it you have finished your discussion?" Thorin asked, looking between Asha and Gandalf as he stood.

Gandalf looked to Asha for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes, I think we have settled all that is needed to be taken care of for the time being," he answered.

Thorin looked to Asha, his eyes wandering across her face before speaking again.

"And you will be leaving now?" he asked trying to sound indifferent but found his voice sounded more aggressive than he meant it to be.

Asha nodded in response to his question. "Aye, we will be on our way now, you will not have to endure our presence longer."

"That is not what I meant," defended Thorin with a frown. "I only meant to clarify if you will be staying a little while longer or not."

Asha nodded in understanding, she stood silently for a while as she merely stared back at him as if truly debating if she would linger or not. Thyra broke her out of the spell as she walked over to her side speaking quickly and quietly. Asha tore her eyes away to nod at the girl and waved a finger towards their belongings. At her gesture, Thyra moved towards the pile, followed by Sigurd where they immediately began strapping and securing their belongings. Once finished they returned to Asha's side, each holding out her belongings.

Thorin watched as Asha slowly took the pack from Thyra and secured it to her back before accepting an axe from Sigurd and strapped it to the loop that held it securely to her waist.

"Are you sure you do not wish to rest with us for the night?" He suddenly asked as the overwhelming want to keep her near overcame him. He would grasp onto whatever he could, if only but a few more hours until dawn.

It was a meager attempt to satiate that want but it was crushed as Asha gave a small shake of her head.

"No, I am afraid I have to decline, as tempting as the offer is," he found nothing in her voice that gave indication if she was speaking the truth or not. "If we travel through the night we should reach our destination by sun up and there we will rest from our travels."

Thorin nodded in acceptance, albeit with a sinking disappointment.

"Then safe travels go with you," he wished her.

She smiled. "And with you, Thorin Oakenshield," she responded, a slight humor in her voice as she tried out his newly acclaimed name since they had last seen each other.

They were moving not a moment later.

As they disappeared into the brush Thorin watched as some of the members, more specifically Dwalin and Fíli, physically relaxed at their departure. Feeling the opposite within his chest, Thorin settled back down and listened to their footsteps fade away until he could no longer hear them. He turned to the wizard of their company who had taken his own seat next to him.

"What is it that you discussed with our guests?" Asked Thorin.

"Oh this and that. Nothing of the journey ahead of us as I assume you wanted," he said calmly.

Thorin nodded. "Indeed."

"However I do not understand why. Perhaps they could have been of use to us," Gandalf surmised.

"Perhaps," Thorin agreed. "However, I would not expect a Brimir to concede to help a Durin. If a Brimir had an eternal fountain of water, and a Durin that was lost in the desert begged for a mouthful, they would not give him a single drop."

"Ah," Gandalf sighed. "The fabled feud of two houses. And here I thought you were an exception even before its so called demise. But I suppose like a phoenix, it will rise again now that both main houses are represented in life."

Thorin shot him a glare, a fire of rage burning within him. "You have known all this time she was alive," he growled.

Gandalf shrugged.

"I did not think a Durin would care," he said, looking in the direction in which the three women had departed while watching Thorin bristle from the corner of his eye.

Thorin grunted but made no other further acknowledgment.

In truth there was only one time, one day, one night specifically, that he ever felt a part of the feud. It was a moment of weakness and vulnerability that came out in a time of grief. But ever since that night, he found it was easier to move on and accept their separated lives if he hated her instead of loved. When he heard of her demise, it was easier to think he relished her death instead of feeling guilty blame on himself.

He had forced his ill opinions of the Brimir's because it made it easier to live in a world without her existence. But in reality, there was still only the one night that it was ever true. The rest had always been faked.

It was a cowardly method, but effective. It had been decades since he felt the need to use it but seeing her tonight undid years. But now it was worse. She had been living in existence for so many years yet she had never made herself known.

Instead she had remained hidden. Kept away from him. It was a cruel move on her part. Asha had never been a cold person, not to anyone. Yet he had suffered and he was certain she had known.

He hardened his expression and focused on the one time he ever felt he truly hated anyone who carried Brimir blood. He hated to do it, but he had to. It was the only way he could keep from letting his emotions make decisions that ended in heartache.

He had done it once. Let his feelings blind him from the realities of life and look where it had gotten him. Heart broken, brotherless, and bitter. He needed to focus, to keep his mind distracted. She had always been an itch throughout his life, constantly making itself aware by the annoying yearning to scratch. But like an itch, it was sweet relief when scratched but the more you scratch, the worse it became. And tonight, he had just scratched that long forgotten itch.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Second Encounter

"This little Ferret is taking us for fools!" Yelled Tom.

"Ferret!" Cried Bilbo in indignation.

"That's it! I am done with this deceit," said Bert as he reached down and grabbed Bilbo.

He opened his gaping mouth, his putrid hot breath hitting Bilbo in the face and making him crinkle his nose in revulsion. The dwarves stopped their claims of having parasites and began attempting to dissuade the troll from swallowing Bilbo whole.

There was a rustle in the trees above Bert and he hesitated. He set Bilbo down on the ground who immediately rolled out of his reach. Bert's mouth hung to the side making him look even more stupid as he looked up at the rustling limbs.

"Ruddy birds," he said glaring back down to the space where he had set Bilbo down, only now to see him gone. "What the…" His bloodshot eyes scanned around and settled on Bilbo who was attempting to hop away. "Oh no you don't!" He said moving to grab Bilbo again.

There was a snap of a branch followed by a loud roar of pain as a body dropped from the trees and onto his back.

Fíli watched from an inverted perspective between Gloin's and Bombur's feet as Bert arched his back and turned in a circle. His pudgy arms fumbled and stretched as he attempted to reach behind his back.

As the trolls back came to face the pile of dwarves, Fíli saw what had caused him such pain. Hanging from his back was Thyra, two knives imbedded in his tough skin. She gritted her teeth as she swung wildly back and forth with each jerky movement that Bert expelled in an attempt to throw her off.

"Get it off of me!" Cried Bert as he danced around.

Tom grabbed a large log, holding it up like a club as he focused on Thyra.

"Hold still Bert, I will get it."

He pulled his arm up and swung towards the other troll's back where Thyra was hanging.

Fíli watched Thyra as she caught sight of club swinging towards her. Her eyes grew wide and released her hold. She dropped down to the ground just as Tom swung the log. Bert let out another cry of pain as the log smashed against his back and sent him falling forward.

Meanwhile, Thyra hit the ground, tucking her legs and head as she rolled away. She came to a stop in front of the pile of dwarves who were all watching in astonishment. As she stood up and faced them, she pulled the sword strapped to her back and spun around to face the three trolls.

"You idiot," cried Bert as he hit Tom on the top of the head.

"I was just tryin' to 'elp," he defended stupidly.

"Where did it go," he cried.

"It's over there!" Said William as he pointed towards Thyra.

Bert spun around and set his angry face to her. The ground shook as he took furious steps towards her, his pace quickening as he grew closer. Thyra did not wait for him to clear the entire distance as she pushed herself forward. She dodged his grasp as he grabbed for her. Weaving through his hands and legs she swung her sword, slicing a deep cut on his calf muscle. The troll let out another furious cry of pain as he fell to the ground.

As Bert struggled to get back up, Tom swiped at Thyra, who rolled out of his reach. But as she stood to her feet, William snatched her up and began shaking her violently in his hand.

Fíli watched as her head whiplashed back and forth as the troll shook her. Her sword fell from her hand and landed on the ground with a clatter.

"I got her Bert, I got her," he said victoriously, raising Thyra above his head.

There was a loud whistle from the bushes and out came Asha wielding an axe.

She swung it towards William who let out a wail as he stepped back to avoid the heavy blade. In his attempt to avoid Asha's axe, he tripped over Bert who was still trying to stand up and dropped Thyra to the ground.

Fíli watched Thyra fall hard onto her back, he was sure the fall would knock her out cold, but she dizzly rolled over and struggled to get to her feet. She shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind as her dazed eyes roved over the grass before her. The metallic gleam of her sword caught her attention and she unsteadily started to crawl towards it. In her disoriented state, she failed to notice Bert who finally managed to stand.

He came up behind her and reached down to grab her.

"Behind you," warned Fíli without even thinking.

He watched as her dark eyes looked in his direction for a moment before she turned her head.

Bert's fingers were just about to wrap around her small body when an arrow shot out from the woods and into his outstretched hand.

In the direction of where the projectile had come from, Sigurd burst from the bushes as she notched another arrow to her bow string.

The arrow did nothing to penetrate Bert's thick skin but the distraction had been enough for Thyra to find her sword and move away. With her sword raised and ready to defend herself, she faced the troll and waited.

* * *

When Asha burst through the forest undergrowth and began attacking the trolls, Thorin could not help but watch in awe. He had never seen her wield a weapon before nor had he ever been able to imagine her do such an action. She had always been such a gentle a peaceful creature. But watching her now was a testament that she truly was a Brimir, born and bred to fight.

He was impressed with all three dwarrow maids as they fought the trolls. But to be fully accurate, he felt more grateful than impressed, especially for Thyra and her timely interruption of his burglar being ingested.

Unfortunately as they fought on, it became obvious that despite their skills, it was not enough to stop the trolls. He watched in horror as Asha was backhanded by one of the trolls and fell back several feet. A rage built inside of him as he watched her body tumble to the ground and fall still while he remained helplessly tied up in a potato sack.

Sigurd shot another arrow at the troll who had sent Asha flying as it was making its way to the fallen women. As the arrow sunk into the trolls left shoulder it turned around and began advancing on Sigurd instead of Asha, causing her to retreat back.

The other two trolls were advancing on Thyra. She let out an enraged growl as she watched Asha being hit and began weaving in and out of their legs to get to her still body. She made it past one but as she was just about to get past the second troll, he reached out and caught her cloak. She let out a strangled gasp as he lifted her into the air.

"I have had enough of you girly," Bert growled at her. "It's time we put an end to this."

"The dawn will take you all," came a loud voice from above Thorin.

Thorin looked up to see the silhouette of a tall man with a pointy hat and large walking stick. _Gandalf,_ he thought in relief.

Gandalf raised his staff and struck down on the rock he was standing on. A thunderous crack echoed through the air as the stone split in half. Sunlight poured through the break and fell upon the three trolls who were stunned into silence. As the sun hit their skin, they began crying out and shielded themselves with their arms in an attempt to block the sunlight. But their efforts were to no avail.

Within moments of the sun hitting their skin, their screams were cut off as they turned to stone.

An odd silence fell upon the clearing only to be broken by the grumblings of the dwarves tied to the spit. Gandalf began helping the dwarves out of their sacks and bonds along with Bilbo who had managed to free himself with a knife he had found when he escaped after Thyra's intervention.

Thorin watched as Sigurd moved over to Asha's body and started to check on her. Anxiety filled his body as he remembered how she had been knocked back. But when the young girl helped Asha sit up and stand to her feet, he was filled with relief. She looked a little shaken, but seemed to have no harm done.

His attention was drawn away from her when Gandalf came up to him and began helping him out of his bonds.

"Where did you go off to, may I ask?"

"To look ahead," stated Gandalf simply.

"And what brought you back?" Asked Thorin.

"Looking behind," he responded again in a simple tone.

* * *

Fíli, being one of the first to be free, quickly dressed back into his clothes and gear before making his way over to help the ones who were still tied up to the roasting spit. As he passed the once trolls, now statues, he looked up to see an amusing sight.

Thyra hanging in the air, her cloak still caught in the Bert's outstretched stone hand. She moved around like a mouse caught by its tail. Her legs kicked out as her arms pulled at the cloth in an attempt to loosen herself. But after several forcefull tugs, it became obvious that the cloak would not come loose.

Fíli stopped below her and watched her struggling. He knew the right thing would be to help her. Especially since she had possibly just prevented his and the entire companies early demise.

And had it been anyone else, he would not have hesitated.

But as the image of her flipping him onto his back that resulted in the still healing bruise that ran down his spin, causing many sleepless nights of struggling to lay down without feeling pain, he faltered. He did not like the girl. And seeing her now, in such a situation where she was at his mercy, he could not help but feel a slight hunger for revenge.

A small laugh of mockery parted from his lips.

At the sound of his amusement, she stopped struggling and looked down at him. Her eyes narrowed at his ridicule. Fíli responded with a sly grin.

"I would help, but last time I tried that, I ended up flat on my back," he commented up to her.

He knew she would not understand a word he said, but he hoped his tone would at least relay some of the meaning. Taking note of her deepened frown and eye twitch of annoyance, he knew that she had understood at least a small part of what he wanted to convey to her. He let out another breathy laugh then took a step to leave her to her own devices of freeing herself.

However, it was the only step he managed to take before he saw movement and heard the slash of metal against fabric. Following immediately after, something slammed down on him with great force.

The pressure of the impact caused him to fall forward and his face was forced to meet the grass as a body fell on top of him.

She was not heavy but the force was enough to push all the air from his lungs like a sudden gust of heavy wind. Before he had caught his breath he felt himself being flipped over to his back and his line of sight was greeted with silhouetted hand of a troll, grasping a green piece of fabric that was torn and frayed.

Confusion washed over him for a moment before a face framed by wheat colored wisps of hair and two black orbs, shining with mirth, came into his view.

Thyra's mouth curled into a satisfied smirk as she crouched over him. He slowly pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes narrowing in annoyance at her. There was no denying that what she had done was on purpose.

He had thought she would move away from him when he moved but she stayed still, causing him to halt in his effort to get up as he had no desire to come into closer proximity. Her smirk turned into a grin showing off two rows of straight white teeth. She leaned in closer just ever so slightly to whisper into his ear.

"Thanks, _Feelig_ ," she said in a thickly accented voice.

She then pulled away, her face showing content, satisfaction in witnessing the shock on his face. She gave him a single wink then placed a hand on his chest and shoved him back to the ground. As he fell back, she abruptly rose to her feet and promptly walked away without giving so much as another glance in his direction.

Fíli quickly recovered and scrambled to his hands and knees but Thyra was already too far away for him to retaliate. However, it did not stop him from at least glaring in her direction as she approached Sigurd and Asha.

As if sensing his glare Thyra turned back around and looked at him. She shot him another smirk before turning her attention to Asha as the older woman began to make her way towards the rest of the group.

"Fíli, what are you doing down there?" Came Kíli's voice from behind him. "Your going to get soaking wet from the dew."

Fíli looked back at his brother and shot him an undeserved look of annoyance. "Trust me, it was not my decision."

A look of confusion came across Kíli's face but Fíli ignored it as he pushed himself back to his feet. Already he felt several more bruises beginning to form on his back and rump which only served to dampened his mood further.

Without a word to his brother, Fíli moved to join the group as they all gathered together. The company in one clump while Asha and the two other dwarrowmaids stood just slightly separate from the mass of males.

* * *

Thorin was speaking with Gandalf when the wizard smiled and looked over his head at the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. He turned to find Asha coming toward them, Sigurd striding next to her, while Thyra brought up the rear. All three looked tired and travel worn but any questions of how or why they were here where lost to him when Asha spoke.

"You must be more careful Thorin. You will never make it to Erebor alive if you decide to engage with everyone you meet along the road," she looked towards the spit where the, Bifur, the final member to be released, was being helped to stand. "Nor will your rations last should you feed them all. Especially trolls, don't you know they have voracious appetites?"

Her tone was light and teasing but it was not received in kind. Instead, Thorin froze as well as several others in the vicinity, the rest only looked shaken. When he recovered from his paralyzed shock, Thorin swept his eyes over the company, searching for a look of guilt or hint as to who could of told her. His eyes lingered suspiciously on the hobbit but then moved onto Gandalf who was smiling pleasantly to himself.

He bristled.

"You told her," he accused as he took several steps towards the tall man. "In your little secret meeting with her, you told her of our quest! You swore you said nothing!"

Gandalf's smile faded as he spoke. "Don't be a fool!" He snapped back. "I did nothing but discuss matters of our own personal business."

Thorin believed him but it did not calm his temper, if it was not him then who was it. Surely none of his men would disobey his direct order to say anything. His thoughts tracked down the only other possibility.

"You!" he said, pointing a finger at Bilbo. "Have you not done enough to sabotage this company by nearly getting yourself caught by the trolls which then resulted in all of my men almost being killed!"

"Your halfing did not tell me either," said Asha in exasperated voice.

Thorin spun back around to face Asha. His face growing red with fury and impatience.

"Then do me a favor and tell me who told you," he commanded.

Asha's mouth curled into an amused smile as her own patience still persevered. "In a way, you did," she said calmly.

Thorin's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I did no such thing, I spoke nothing of our quest to you, nor near you," he said gruffly. "Stop speaking in riddles and tell me who told you!"

There was a temporary stillness that settled over them. A morning bird chirped as it flew over and the rustle of leaves shivering in the wind filled the air. And then Thyra stepped forward.

"Thyra telled her."

Her words were strong and loud. Loud enough for the declaration to be clearly heard by everyone. But despite this, there was a lag of reaction to her heavily accented words after she spoke. There was no mistaking what was said or who had said it. But even with no discrepancy, thirteen dwarves and one hobbit stared wide eyed at Thyra.

She stood before Thorin without any fear or guilt on her face. Thorin stared down at the girl before him. She was just barely tall enough to reach his chest but her entire demeanor claimed that she was not intimidated by his own towering mass.

After several long moments of absolute silence, the reality of what she had revealed sunk in.

Instead of directing his rage at the small girl, he looked over the top of her head to where Asha stood behind her, her arms folded, and awaiting his reaction.

Thorin narrowed his eyes. The little foreign girls sentence may had been poorly designed but the meaning was all too clear. She had heard and understood everything discussed that night. And it was obvious that Asha had purposely kept the girl in their vicinity for that very purpose.

"It seems the lying through their teeth trait of the Brimir did not escape even you, Rashava," he said in an accusing and harsh tone.

Asha frowned at the use of her true given name. "I did not lie, you only inferred. A trait that seems to still be quite common in the Durin's," she snapped back in defense. "Perhaps you should learn to not speak so freely in front of strangers."

Thorin felt his annoyance snap as he stepped forward with his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles where bone white.

Before he could even manage a second step, he was stopped by the cold press of steel against his neck and his retort was forgotten. He looked down and his brows raised in surprise by the swiftness in which Thyra had drawn her sword.

She stood between him and Asha with her sword poised. Gone was the proud highness of her head as it was replaced with a protective stance and her eyes seeped an unspoken promise that she would not hesitate to press her sword further. An action he knew would swiftly end his life as the cold metal throbbed against the beating pulse in his neck.

The ringing of metal being drawn, along with the stretch of bowstring and sling shot sounded behind him as the company moved to act in their King's defense.

Thorin stared into the deep pools of the girls eyes as he tried to read her. He could not deny the intrigue of knowing why this girl seemed to be so fiercely loyal to Asha.

She was not a kinsman, nor was she a subject to her families previous rule, yet she was willing to put herself against thirteen other dwarves. Many of which were trained warriors with years of experience that exceeded her own years of age.

In a small way he felt a twinge of jealousy. She had managed to gain the loyalty of this small Régínn girl when he himself could not even gain the support of his own cousin.

Slowly, he raised his hand to signal for the others to lower their weapons. He heard a hesitant rustle but soon the sound of metal being slid into scabbards sounded and he knew his command had been followed.

All the while, he kept his eyes trained on the small girl before him, waiting for her to end her part in this imbalanced standoff.

"Your sword is not necessary lass, I will not bring any harm to Asha," he said calmly in the Westron.

For a moment he wondered if perhaps she did not understand. He had just found out that she could speak the common tongue no more than two minutes ago. But her capacity of fully understanding the language was still unknown. Her knowledge could still be limited.

His wonder was ceased when Asha stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright Thyra, you can trust his words," she assured the younger dwarfmaid.

Thyra did not look satisfied nor comfortable with the idea but her sword immediately dropped without hesitation after Asha's reassurance. An action that surprised Thorin.

He had expected at least some hesitancy in the girl but she seemed to practice immediate and perfect obedience as she stepped away and sheathed her long sword with a single motion.

With no one separating them, Thorin took a step forward and pointed warningly at Asha.

"Whomever you see or met, you are not to breathe a word."

Asha's brow raised.

"I am not your enemy Thorin, despite what our family histories may hint towards. I know what exposing your intentions would do, especially if heard by your true enemies. You may not believe it, but I do not wish ill fate to fall upon you."

Thorin looked at her honest face and could not help but feel a slight twinge in his chest. A miniscule desire prodded the back of his mind to extend an invitation to have her join the company. But sensibility quickly intervened.

He could not ask her of such things. She owed him nothing and he knew that it would not bode well with others of the company. Despite his need for more aid, he knew it would not make a big enough difference. He needed an army, not two and half women. He lifted his chin and hardened himself from his moment of weakness.

"Then I suppose I will only hope you will keep your word," he said strongly.

It was obvious by the look on her face his tone was not one she wanted to hear. She stiffened and narrowed her eyes. Then she let out a snort of contempt at the arrogance in his voice. Her eyes grazed around the small number that consisted of his company.

"You are attempting a fool's errand," she hissed. Thorin bristled at her words but was kept from retorting when she continued. "Now if you will excuse us, we must be on our way. Our travels have now been delayed twice by you. Once by your blinded suspicion and now by your failure to keep yourself out of trouble." She then added in a mocking tone, "I hope you do not find yourself in a swarm of goblins because next time, I will lead by your families example and won't bother to intervene."

Without waiting for a reply she turned to Thyra and Sigurd.

"Let's go," she barked in a commanding tone that Thorin had never heard her use. Not even to a servant did he ever hear her speak so abruptly. "We have wasted enough time," she added under her breath.

The moment she gave her command she began to walk away, muttering to herself about arrogant princes and ungrateful men.

Sigurd gave a shy glance to the group before waving a hand towards Gandalf and prancing off in Asha's wake.

Thyra only gave one thoughtful look over the group before following after the two at her own pace. Only when she passed by Fíli at the edge of the group did she let her eyes falter from the backs of her companions to meet his. Her eyes narrowed to return the look of dislike he was sending her way until she had passed.

And just as quickly as they arrived, they were gone.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . .**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Third Encounter: Part I

Thorin begrudgingly followed Gandalf down the path that led into Rivendell and crossed over an arched bridge. Once they passed over the melodic river running through the elven fortress, a tall, dark haired elf greeted them.

" _Mithrandir, Lastannem i athrannedh i Vruinen_ _ **,**_ " he said.

" _Lindir, how kind of you to greet us_ ," Gandalf replied in a pleasant tone. "We have come to council with Lord Elrond," he added, switching to the common language.

"I am sorry," replied the elf in same. "But I am afraid Lord Elrond is away at the moment."

"Away?" Questioned Gandalf.

Before the elf could re-confirm the absence of his Lord, the sound of horns echoed throughout the valley accompanied by the sound of hooves against rock.

The company turned to face several mounted and armed elves, making their way towards them at a fast pace. Unknowing of the intentions, Thorin barked orders to close ranks. The dwarves huddled together. Bilbo was squashed in the middle, as they drew their weapons in preparation for the fight that could arise.

The lead elf guided his horse around the company, the rest of the elves following suit as they surround the small band.

"Lord Elrond," greeted Gandalf as the elf dismounted and approached him. "I had just been informed you were away, but I see you have returned."

"I have," replied Elrond. "I see you travel with strange company these days," he stated as his keen eyes swept over the company.

"We ran into a spot of trouble and came here to seek refuge."

Elrond spoke to Lindir in elvish then turned to face the company. "Thorin Oakenshield," he said, causing Thorin to tense up as he glared at the elf skeptically. " _Nartho i noer, toltho i viruvor. Boe i annam vann a nethail vin_."

"What is he saying!" Exclaimed Gloin as he raised his axe. "Does he insult us!"

"He does not Master Gloin. He offers you food and rest. Which I suggest you accept." Gandalf added, looking sternly at Thorin.

It took him a moment, but eventually Thorin nodded at let themselves be guided into the arching buildings. Elrond led them through the idyll hallways, carved and decorated with such delicacy it left them all speechless. They wandered and turned through the main house until they reached a long corridor with several doors along each side.

"You are to sleep here during the duration of your stay. Feel free to choose any room along this hall. Except for the far door on the right. That room is already occupied with some other guests that arrived earlier this week." He said pointing to the door. "You will have some time to prepare for dinner which will be ready in an hour on the veranda."

With no more need to play host at the moment, Elrond gave a small bow and departed to another part of the manor.

In his absence, the company of dwarves scrambled to find a room. Some rooms large enough to accommodate three while others where only large enough for one. Thorin took the first door on the right as it served only one as Gandalf took the adjacent room. The rest of the company all filled the remaining rooms. Bilbo found himself following Fíli and Kíli down to the end of the hall.

Kíli opened the second to last door on the right. "Here you go Bilbo. This one should suit you." He said opening the door wider to reveal the smallest room with a single small bed.

Bilbo smiled at the dark haired Prince. "Thank you, I think it will do nicely," he said.

Kíli grinned down at the short hobbit before looking to Fíli who called his name and beckoned him to the last vacant room at the end of the hallway on the left.

As he entered the room he looked around. Two beds sat opposite of each other on either side of the room. A small desk stood between them and a large intricately carved wardrobe was located on the right hand side of the door. To his left Fíli was opening a second door to investigate where it led. By what he saw from over Fíli's shoulder, he concluded it was a small washroom.

"How long do you think we will be here?" Kili asked as Fíli closed the door to the washroom and threw his belongings onto one of the beds.

Fíli shrugged. "I think if Thorin had his way we would be departing right now," he remarked. "But we lost a lot of supplies when we encountered the trolls. And after that run in with the orc pack, I think he knows that at least a few days rest and restock of supplies will be worth some toleration of being in the presence of elves. Uncle may hate them, but he will do what is best for the group."

Kíli dropped his belongings next to the bed opposite of Fíli's and flopped onto his back. A relieved groan escaped his lips as the softness of the mattress enveloped him.

"Whatever he decides is fine, just as long as I get one nights rest in this bed," he said in a sleepy drawl.

Fíli hummed his agreement and the brothers both slowly drifted off into a light sleep.

* * *

Thorin fell onto his bed and let out a sigh. He was not a fan of elves, nor anything to do with them, but at the moment he was seriously re-considering that mentality. The bed was the perfect softness and the sheets the smoothest silk. It felt glorious after weeks of sleeping on the ground. As he closed his eyes he let out another relaxed sigh.

Just as he felt himself begin to slip out of consciousness and into a deep sleep, a single thought of what Gandalf had said earlier was brought forth and his eyes snapped open.

They were being hunted.

The earlier comfort he had found on the bed suddenly felt too soft. Like he was sinking into something that would eventually swallow him whole. He rose up and hunched over at the edge of the bed. He was beginning to be fearful of what may lay at the end of their journey.

What if Smaug was only slumbering within his lair? What if whomever they were being hunted by found them? They would be cornered. And what other dangers would they face before they even saw the mountain? Already they had nearly been eaten by trolls and then chased down by warg riding orc scouts. Perhaps Asha's curse to run into a swarm of goblins would come true.

He shivered.

He had been so sure things would be successful but now it was beginning to look daunting. He needed more men. But he had already sent out for help and he had been denied. A bitterness came to his mouth at the thought. His own kin would not help him unless he possessed the arkenstone. He let out a resentful laugh at the irony. Perhaps the Brimir's were correct in saying the Durin's were greedy.

* * *

The sound of footsteps drifted into Kíli's ears and he awoke to the sound of the door across the hallway opening and closing. He rubbed his eyes and let out a loud yawn and several groans as he stretched.Fíli was already awake and dressing out of his dirty clothes into a pair of clean pants and tunic.

"Who do you think the other guests are across the hall?" Kíli asked as he began digging through his bag for a new change of clothes.

"Probably more elves. I am sure we will find out if we stay long enough," concluded Fíli. He then nodded his head towards the clothes in Kíli's hands. "Hurry up, I am starving and Thorin told us to be ready in five minutes."

Between not wanting to be the reason his brother missed dinner and the drive of his own hunger, Kíli quickly got dressed and ready. The moment he finished, they departed their room and followed after Nori and Ori who were just leaving their room at the other end of the hall. Ten minutes later, after a short detour from getting lost, they were sitting at a low table with the rest of the company waiting for the food to be served.

Fíli looked around, taking in the odd decorative style of the elves. With its curved elegance, it mimicked the organic themes of the world. But while it suited the elves style and manner as it complimented and blended with its surroundings in nature; Fíli still preferred the traditional dwarven design of geometric shapes of hard angles and straight lines. He looked over to the higher table where Elrond, Gandalf, and Thorin still stood and talked.

Elrond looked up to the entry way as light footsteps announced more arrivals. "Ah, I hope you don't mind but I invited two additions to share our meal." He said pointing to the archway leading from the corridor the company had just entered through themselves.

Thorin, and the rest of the company turned to see who the other guests were. Two dwarrow maids, one tall, the other significantly shorter. It was a sight that was becoming all too familiar.

Thorin narrowed his eyes in suspicion as they came to a stop under the archway. One pair of bright blue eyes and a pair of dark onyx surveyed the company with the same shocked, yet in retrospect, not surprised expressions.

Sigurd and Thyra stood still as they took in the arrangement of the company spread throughout the terrace.

Sigurd was dressed in a delicate flowing dress fashioned in the style of elvin design. A sheer blue fabric with a creme lining beneath made her own blue eyes stand out even more. Her hair was neatly brushed and left alone as it hung straight to her shoulders. Only a single braid on her left with leather strap to signify her age as an adult adorned her hair.

Beside her Thyra stood freshly washed and dressed in clean clothes. However hers where of a more foreign design. A sleeveless high collar tunic of dark leather hugged her torso and fell to her knees. Intricate designs where embossed on the neck and chest then again appeared at the hem. A slit on each side of her thighs gave her free mobility as the underside of each panel was died a deep red. With each step, the contrast of dark leather with the flash of red gave it an effect that reminded one of the glowing embers of a dying fire. Beneath the dress she wore black leggings and a pair of small boots. The image brought about a unique combination of fierce femininity.

He should have been surprised that these two were the extra guests, but Thorin found himself hardly startled. But what he did feel was suspicion. He failed to believe in such a coincidence that it was these two they were encountering yet first encounter had been a random and unexpected occurrence. The second could have been considered lucky chance. But three times in just over six weeks?

It was now past the right amount to be an innocent serendipity and had passed over into suspicious coincidence. But before he could let his suspicions run their course, he was distracted by one missing factor to this particular encounter with them. Where was Asha?

"What are they doing here?" Muttered Thorin under his breath as he glared at the two girls in the doorway.

Elrond raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You know them?"

"Aye," confirmed Thorin.

Elrond nodded thoughtfully.

"I thought the presence of some of your kin would make you feel more comfortable but with you knowing them it makes it all the more conventional," he said.

"I would hardly consider a foreigner from the east my kin. As for the other one, I know nothing of her lineage," he growled as he turned his back to the archway and took his seat at the table.

Elrond raised his eyebrows to Gandalf and exchanged a look, but he said nothing else to Thorin. Instead he walked over to Sigurd and Thyra with his arms outstretched.

"Friends, I hope your day has been well. Please, come sit," he said, indicating the table low table.

Sigurd gave a happy smile to Elrond and started to glide her way to the table, Thyra said nothing or gave any acknowledgment to Elrond but she did follow closely behind her companion.

Bofur, who had been one of the few who had not shown a dislike to their arrival waved them over.

"Come sit over here," he said with a smile as Sigurd led Thyra over to the table. "Budge up Bilbo, make some room," he nudged to the hobbit as they approached.

Bilbo moved over giving enough room for the two maids to sit down. Thyra sat next to Bofur and gave him a smile as she greeted him. Thyra took a seat on her other side next to Bilbo. Across the table Kíli sat watching them while Fíli sat next to him, glancing between the two arrivals with a conflicted expression.

"I am surprised to see you here," Bofur expressed, bringing both maidens attention to him. "Although after our recent histories, I suppose we should not be all that surprised."

"Is Asha here as well?" Kíli asked as his brown eyes darted over to where Thorin was sitting.

Sigurd followed his eyes to look at Thorin as well. As she turned back around to face Kíli she shook her head.

"Asha is back home but we needed to restock on certain herbs that only grow in this valley. Since time was short, she sent Thyra and myself here before returning home while she continued by herself."

"And where exactly is home for you?" Fíli interrogated as he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table.

"We move around from place to place but right now we…"

Thyra who had been silently listening shifted in her seat to send a sharp kick to Sigurd's leg. Sigurd let out a yelp of pain and shot a look at Thyra. In return Thyra gave her a warning look as she moved her head just slightly from side to side. Fíli caught the exchange between to two and narrowed his eyes.

When Sigurd recovered from her pain she looked back to Kíli and while the quick glare at Thyra indicated her displeasure, it was obvious she would be heeding Thyra's silent warning when she changed the subject.

"Have your travels been well since we last met?" She asked with a sweetness that almost distracted them all from the blatant avoidance of Kíli's earlier question.

Before an answer could be given, several elves walked in with heavy laden trays of food and set them on the table before them. Kíli's stomach grumbled at the promise of food but as the trays were laid before them, a frown came to his face. The other dwarves of the company all had similar expressions as well, some even voicing their disgruntlement.

"What is it," asked Ori as he picked up a piece of lettuce and sniffed it.

"Try it." Encouraged Bofur.

"It's green," complained Ori. "I don't like green food.

Kíli watched Sigurd as she helped herself to some food, a slight smile crawling to her face as she listened to Ori. She looked up from her plate and her blue eyes caught him watching her. Immediately her gaze lowered so as to not fully meet his.

"Your group does not dine with elves very often, do you?" Her tone was amused as she directed her question to Kíli.

"It is a first," he responded. "Probably for all of us."

Thyra grabbed a roll from a basket and spoke to Sigurd in Régínn. Sigurd frowned then shook her head.

"I still need more time to collect the rest of what we need. On top of that, Elrond won't have time to meet with me for another day to go over the proper procedure for harvesting the seeds."

Thyra frowned at her answer then spoke again, sticking with her native tongue.

"No." Said Sigurd, starting to sound annoyed. "And speak in common tongue, we are among friends now. They already know you can speak Westron so there is no need to use Régínn."

Thyra shot an accusing look at Fíli and Kíli who were watching, as if it was there fault Sigurd had refused whatever she had requested and was being forced to speak Westron.

"Don't blame them," reprimanded Sigurd. "You're the one who chose to speak in front of them."

Thyra did not change her glower but she did direct it to her food instead. She tore a piece from her bread and Fíli was positive she was not visualizing the morsel of food she was about to eat when she violently ripped into the bread again. Sigurd rolled her eyes and waved Thyra's attitude off as she set her attention back to speaking with the company.

"How long will you be staying in Rivendell?" Sigurd asked.

"Probably not for very long, a few days at most. Thorin will want to leave as soon as possible," Nori said as he joined in on their conversation as he leaned over to see her from the other side of Bofur.

"When will you be leaving?" Bofur asked.

"I would love to remain for three more–"

"Two days," interrupted Thyra. "We leave the day after tomorrow at sun up."

Sigurd looked at her. "That's not enough–"

"Bad luck to start a journey on a friday. Dangerous to leave at night to journey through mountains. Remain more than necessary we will not. We have been here a week and we were told no more than two," Thyra disputed, leaving no room for Sigurd to counter her argument.

"Wait a minute," Kíli exclaimed. "How did you manage to get here in enough time to already have been here for a week when we are just now arriving?"

"You walk slow and take too many breaks, like a little child," replied Thyra as if she were stating a fact and not an insult.

It was a mixture of different reactions that showed on those who overheard Thyra's comment. Kíli let out a laugh, Nori smiled and made a comment that it had been too long since someone said anything that would indicate he was youthful, and Bofur let out an awkward sound that could have indicated either offense or amusement. A few others looked a bit miffed but it was Fíli who looked the most offended.

"Don't take it too personally, Thyra is just like a slave driver when it comes to traveling," Sigurd quickly offered, doing her best to keep anyone fromr feeling too offended. "I have a theory her Régínn blood gives her more endurance that most of our kind. She would run a full day and through the night if I were not traveling with her. But she has her own weaknesses...like spiders."

Thyra glared at Sigurd. It was obvious that she did not appreciate Sigurd's remarks. Kíli looked at Thyra in surprise.

"You're afraid of spiders?" He said in amusement.

Thyra switched her glare from Sigurd to Kíli who felt his courage to tease falter under her gaze.

"I do not fear," she said harshly. "I dislike."

Kíli let out a snort.

"But their harmless, sure a bit creepy looking but..."

Thyra rolled a tomato across her plate with her finger as she looked at it thoughtfully. Her dark eyes flashed back up to him.

"You have never seen the spawn of Ungoliant have you?" She asked.

Kíli looked towards Fíli who shrugged his shoulders in shared confusion. He turned back to Thyra.

"What is that?" He asked.

Thyra's mouth curled into an amused smile as she let out an unimpressed snort.

"Hope that you remain ignorant of it," she said flatly.

At her ominous remark, conversation seemed to die down. Thyra ignored everyone while Sigurd made only polite conversation with those who directly asked her a question. With each reply her eyes never meet there's as she meekly answered their bombardment of questions.

Fili was not feeling any motivation to participate, his mood still sour from having to sit across from Thyra. So he took the opportunity to watch and learn from the two girls without being too conspicuous.

From what he had already gathered about Sigurd in their previous meetings, was that she was of sweet nature and a gentle girl. But watching her now, he noticed something else. She was extremely shy. She hid it well, keeping her smile up and conversing much more than Thyra, but he could tell she was not at ease with it.

She hardly met anyone's eyes directly, and when she did, it was only briefly. She also kept her hands gripped in her lap. It was only when she took a bite of food or a drink of wine that she removed her death grip on the silky fabric of her dress.

Each of those movements were always quick and short before she returned to herself. To most of the others, it seemed like only reserved politeness and he supposed anyone would assume the same. In fact, he was nearly positive he only noticed such behaviour because it was such a contrast to the other girl sitting directly across from him.

Compared to Sigurd, Thyra exuded confidence as she easily sat surrounded by others while remaining uninvolved with them. As he analyzed her stature, he finally became aware of the numerous markings on her skin.

Tattoos where no scarcity within his people. He himself had a few of his own and one would only have to look at Dwalin to know the decorum most soldiers chose as a personal uniform. However, this all fell within the male gender of his kind.

When it came to the more feminine side of their kind, dwarrowmaids simply did not adorn their skin with the dark inks. The fairer gender of their kind usually stuck to precious ores and rare gems to express themselves. But it seemed the Régínn were an exception, or at least Thyra was.

He had not noticed upon their first two meetings as her travel clothes had appropriately covered her arms and skin. But now, with the design of her current attire, he could see the expanse of dark lines drawn in intricate designs that webbed across her skin.

Immediately he forgot about trying to be discreet and openly began to run his eyes along her exposed skin. Runes and twisted symbols were printed on her fingers between each joint. Unable to read or understand their meaning, he moved his attention to her right arm, examining the more detailed and dominant designs first. The first one that stood out was large and took up nearly the entirety of her inner forearm.

At first he thought it a crude depiction of a dragon, then he realized that it was not a dragon but an ouroboros of a serpent. Twisted and knotted to form a full oval with its tail clamped in its mouth. A mass of runes and intertwining lines filled in the space of the snake that would normally be covered in scales.

Within the circle that was created by the serpent sat a tree. The tree was barren of any leaves but where leaves would be, there were stars, or more specifically constellations. Some Fili recognized, but the majority were unknown to him.

The tree's roots were visible and like its branches, they twisted into one another, connecting and knotting until they were like a woven tapestry. Again he was at a loss for the meaning so he continued scanning upwards.

His eyes grazed along the covered portion of her neck and collarbone. He wondered for a moment if there were others that lay beneath the dark leather and found his answer when he noticed a few black tendrils just barely poking out from under the high collar of her top. The designs were indistinguishable but it was enough to let him know that they were there.

He moved on until his eyes found bare skin again at her upper left arm. On the rounded part of her shoulder there lay a single circle with several lines growing out of it, like spokes on a wheel. Each individual line had its own design, some more intricate than the others. Foreign runes surrounded the design, forming a border as they encircled it.

His eyes continued to make a decent down her left arm, occasionally catching scars mingled with the darks lines and swirls. Most he brushed aside but it was not until he found his eyes on a particular scar that he stopped again. He had nearly missed it but when she reached for her goblet, it was exposed and the marred flesh stood out.

On her inner wrist lay a raised scar that stuck out. Upon further inspection, Fili realized why it was different than the others. It was because this one was placed there on purpose. Staring back at him was the outline of a menacing eye. It was plain, and simple in design but there was something evil about it. As he looked over the skin he made another discovery. The skin had not been cut to leave such a marking, but instead burned and melted. Branded. The thought of willingly mutilating oneself made him shudder.

His physical reaction went unnoticed by most but when he looked up to Thyra's face, he was met with her dark, penetrative stare. It was obvious she knew he had been staring and while he felt slightly guilty, she seemed unperturbed. She watched him quietly for a moment. No frown on her lips or threat in her stare. She held his eyes for a little longer, then looked away to feign interest in a story Nori was telling. With her face turned to the side, Fili noticed that her ear had a line of strange ruins running along the inner crest of her ear as well.

The moment Thyra finished eating she stood from the table and left without a word. Sigurd remained for a little while longer but it was obvious to Fili she was becoming anxious. It was as if Thyra had taken what little ease the girl had before. She had grown more quiet as the evening went on. But before she left, a certain question was brought up by Kili that even Fili was eager to learn the answer to.

"How did you and Thyra meet?"

Sigurd debated for quite awhile before finally giving answer to Kili's inquiry.

"It was several years back. Nearing seven now this summer," she began. "We had been traveling in the northern region. Near the Ice Bay of Forochel. We had just started our journey for the day when the smell of smoke was mixed in with the morning mist. Asha had us change course to investigate and we made our way to the shore. That's when we came across it."

Sigurd shuddered slightly as the memory played in her mind.

"Across what?"

Sigurd's blue eyes turned slightly towards Bilbo who had asked. They then darted around the group, never meeting any one person fully before returning to Bilbo. She closed her eyes as the memory displayed itself across the back of her lids.

 _It was like a graveyard, even the air itself felt dead as the smell of smoke and sea salt filled her nostrils. There was another, stranger smell mixed in the air but she could not recall the source of such a smell. The early fog rolling in from the salty sea combined with the smoke polluting the air made it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of oneself._

 _The sand easily gave way underfoot but the closer to the waters edge they came, the wetter and more solid it became until it felt as hard as paved cement. It was early spring and while the days had been warmer, the northern winds that blew made it seem like it was still the frigid winter they had just finished._

 _Sigurd followed after Asha as they searched for the source of smoke. She seemed to have been directing them purely by scent. Sigurd caught Asha direct her attention at a certain point ahead, she followed her line of sight and found the source._

 _Ten feet to their right, a darkened outline of what Sigurd first thought was a skeleton rose up above them. Just as she was trying to decide what beast would possess such a massive structure, it was then she noticed the faint glowing embers still smoldering. It was not bone, but wood. And it was not animal remains, but the charred essence of what used to be a ship she was looking at._

 _At this discovery, it was as if the sun decided to shed light on their recent find and it broke through the thick veil just enough to give them a larger view of their surroundings. It was then that Sigurd noticed the bodies and determined what the third smell was coming from._

 _It was the pungent, metallic smell of blood. Nearly fifty bloody and gutted dwarf bodies where strewn across the shore. Most of them surrounding the ship, some only charred remains where it was obvious they had burned along with the ship._

 _Sigurd felt sick._

 _She was no stranger to death or battlefields. But this was different. It was not a battle that had taken place here, it had been a slaughter._

 _Turning around, Sigurd made her way over to some rocks that were nearby. She took refuge and privacy as the entire contents within her stomach where upturned onto the sandy shore. She retched again, and with a shaking hand she wiped her mouth feeling no better than before._

 _Now that she had seen the source of the third smell, she could not help but smell only it. The blood was fresh. This had obviously just happened the night before._

 _She bent over one last time as a dry heave over took her but nothing came up. She stared down at the ground breathing heavily and noticed that her boots had blood on them. She had not even noticed she had walked near enough to a dead body to gain such stains. She shuttered again and immediately moved to wash off her boots in the salty water but was stopped by the call of her name._

 _Against her wishes, she turned to face in the direction of massacre to see Asha walking towards her. Forcing her feet to walk back quickly she did her best to ignore the lifeless bodies that surround them._

" _We found one still alive," Asha said urgently._

" _Just one?"_

 _Asha nodded. "Just barley. We need you."_

As Sigurd explained she could not keep her eyes on anyone. So she kept her eyes focused on her plate as she did her best to keep her words from failtering.

Thyra had looked so young and vulnerable during the week Sigurd tended to her unconscious form. When Thyra finally did awaken, that illusion was quickly extinguished. Especially when they found out she could speak Westron and Sigurd had finally learned what exactly was being said on the rare occasion Thyra actually would speak.

"Ever since, Thyra has been with us," Sigurd concluded after explaining Thyra's eventual recovery.

"What happened the night before you found her?" Fili asked. "Why were her people dead?"

Sigurd bit her lip. "Thyra doesn't talk about it. She doesn't talk about much of anything that happened before those days. So when Asha asked her, Thyra only replied with … Mordu and Bolg."

"What does that mean?"

Sigurd shook her head. "I don't know. At the time I did not know Régán but even now I don't know what it means. I am still learning. I once asked Asha if she knew but she only speculated they were possibly names. There were a few orc bodies among the fallen Régínn so we concluded that they had been attacked by orcs."

Not wanting to talk more on the subject, mostly in respect to Thyra, Sigurd excused herself with a timid voice that was just barely over a whisper. Kili was disappointed at her sudden departure but he told himself there would at least be all day tomorrow for him to strike up more conversation.

* * *

Dinner came to a close and when darkness fell over the valley, Thorin found himself wandering the path outside while he smoked his pipe.

It was still and quiet as he looked up to the clear night. For the first time since their departure, Thorin felt relaxed and at peace. He was not happy about being under the hosting of elves but he could not deny the company needed a few days of proper rest.

As he sat down on a rock under a tree, he let a thick cloud of smoke escape his lips. His mind wandered to the meeting he had just had with Elrond and Gandalf.

Durin's day was far away according to a calendar, but with the amount of distance they had yet to travel, it was much too close. They would have to make haste, especially if they were to have more delays in their journey.

Time was of the essence, but for now, they would rest. He could not risk his company being weary and caught off guard. Therefore, could spare a few days.

Thorin's ears perked up as he heard footsteps approaching and he sank back into the shadows, not wanting to be seen.

Looking through the low hanging branches that veiled him from sight he spotted Lord Elrond and Gandalf come into view as they walked down the path together. As they neared, he began to make out their words.

"Gandalf, these decisions to redraw the map of middle earth are not up to you or me. I do not deem it wise for them to put things to chance. We should not be involved nor encourage such actions," argued Elrond.

"With or without our help, these dwarves will march on the mountain. They are determined to reclaim their homeland. Why not give them aid and support that ensures their quest will not fail?" defended Gandalf.

They paused for a moment as Elrond thought. Thorin held his breath as he watched the two figures in the darkness of the night.

"What about their kin, will they not help? Dain in the iron hills?" Asked Elrond.

Thorin watched as Gandalf shook his head. "Dain will only give aid when Thorin posses the arkenstone. But I worry for them. Many eyes have turned towards that mountain and even if Thorin reclaimed Erebor and Dain came, I fear there will be more than just a single dragon to defeat."

Elrond nodded.

"I fear as much as well."

He paused for a moment.

"What about the Guild? I fear there are not many who would give their aid if even his cousin has denied him but the Guild would possibly help."

Thorin took a step forward, now intrigued.

He had heard rumors of a group that called themselves the Guild. Their full name being the Guild of the Lost.

From what he had collected in information, it was nothing but a large group of traveling mercenaries. He had heard other embossed stories of them being portrayed as some angelic army that swept in and saved villages from the evils of this world. But anytime he had asked where a person heard such things, they claimed to have heard it from a friend, never a witness themselves. So Thorin had long since come to the conclusion that they were either a myth or nothing but a few soldiers in search of some coin for their services.

"I have thought of that possibility. I was optimistic, even positive that he could count on their aid. But that would involve an acute method of diplomacy, something that I fear Thorin lacks. In addition to that, given recent...events, I fear my optimism was misplaced. Things are not as I thought they would be."

Thorin suppressed a snort of indignation. Why would they refuse to aid him? Any mercenary could be bought. He just had to name the right price and Erebor had plenty to offer.

"Then let us hope their leader has the same desire to reclaim the mountain," Thorin heard Elrond reply in a low voice.

Thorin watched as Elrond and Gandalf continued down the path, their voices fading in the distance. He stepped out from under the tree line and watched them for a short while until they disappeared from around a corner.

 _The Guild,_ thought Thorin.

Gandalf had said he had been positive that they would help him but what had changed? Thorin shook his head and began walking up the path in the opposite direction of Gandalf and Elrond. He was tired of Gandalf withholding secrets from him but now was not the moment to confront Gandalf about the plans he had for _his_ quest. This was _his_ quest and he would not be a pawn in Gandalf's game of riddles. Besides, there was no hope in finding them.

And even if he knew where to find them, it was already too late. He could not afford to take anymore detours. They would just have to manage themselves. He had confidence and faith in his men, the worst surely had to be behind them by now.

* * *

Sleep seemed to escape Fili. He tossed and turned constantly as he tried to ignore the snores erupting from Kili's gaping mouth. He had muffled the noise by pulling his pillow over his head but it was then he realized that it was not his brothers snoring that was keeping him awake, he was used to that.

The mystery of who was occupying the room across the hall was no longer unknown. And it was the thought of them, or more specifically, _her_ being across the hall that disturbed him. _She_ put him on edge.

So when he heard the creak of a door, it was no surprise that Fili bolted up with a knife in hand.

His eyes immediately trailed to the door only to find it closed. It was then that he realized that the sound had come from behind the door and not from the door itself. Focusing his hearing, he heard the faint latch of the door across the hall fall back into place before the softest of padding footsteps began to make their way down the hall.

Alarm bells sounded in his mind.

Fueled by his paranoia and Fili thrust the covers from his body and made his way over to the door as he pulled his shirt on.

Cracking the door open and peeking down the hallway, he caught sight of the now familiar short form of Thyra quietly making her way down the hall. With each door she passed undisturbed, he felt a small twinge of relief. When she had reached the end of their corridor and turned down another, it was out of curiosity and no longer anxiety that caused Fili to slip out of his room and follow after.

She moved speedily and Fíli had difficulty keeping up with her while still keeping his steps quiet. If he did not dislike her so much, he would have been impressed with her stealthy abilities to move at such a pace.

Eventually she exited the building and began to roam her way through the wooded area, making it easier for Fíli to keep a distance without losing her. But then she entered a more dense area and took a turn to disappear behind a tree.

Fíli immediately picked up his pace, nearly forgetting to keep his strides quiet as he hastened to catch up. But by the time he arrived to the point she had disappeared, he came to a stop.

Thyra was nowhere to be found. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise up as the sensation of being watched crawled up his spine. His eyes narrowed as he strained to catch sight of her.

"Why do you follow?"

Fili jumped at the sound of her voice. He had been caught off guard when the sound came from behind him instead of in front like he expected. Doing his best to hide his unease in her ability to sneak up on him undetected, he turned around to face her.

Thyra stood only a few paces behind him. Her body partially camouflaged by the brush she had just stepped from.

With the trees casting shadows and the moon being just a sliver in the night sky, it left her face to be consumed mostly by darkness, keeping her expression unreadable.

Fili straightened.

"Why are you out her in the middle of the night?" Fili countered. "Shouldn't you be in bed."

"Why are you?" She challenged with her own question for an answer.

Fili tightened his fists.

"I was following you," Fili finally answered. His tone firm and unashamed.

"Why?"

"Because I don't trust you?" He answered.

Thyra unexpectedly took a step forward and Fili retreated. The moment he moved, he regretted it.

He had shown weakness and given the glint in her eye now visible in the faint silverlight she had stepped into, she knew he was intimidated. Her eyes roved over him. Taking in his disheveled hair and hastily dressed body.

"Why not?" She requested.

Fili was caught off guard when an immediate answer failed to fall from his lips. He felt like their were many reasons but at the same time, none.

He frowned for a moment.

He had always had the philosophy to think the best of people. But for some reason this woman, this girl, for she could hardly be considered a woman of age, made him go against all his beliefs. His mind wandered to the conversation at dinner with Sigurd after Thyra had left.

"You should never trust survivors," he answered plainly. "At least not until you know how they survived."

There was no flinch at the reference of her survival, nor was their any type of reaction. She stared at him, as if contemplating his answer. Then, her mouth curled in amusement.

"You surprise me _Feelig,_ you are smarter than I thought."

Fili's eye twitched. "It's _Fili,"_ he said, emphasizing each syllable of his name. "And what do you mean smarter than you thought. Are you saying that I shouldn't trust you?"

Thyra took another step forward, this time Fili stayed in place. His blue eyes narrowing down at her as she adjusted the angle of her head to meet his eye.

"No," she answered. "You should never trust. Foe, friends, family, no one." She turned around and began to walk away but not before Fili heard her mutter one last sentence. "Not even yourself."

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

 **So a couple things about Thyra. Her dialogue is purposely worded incorrectly to portray her lack of the Westron language. I cannot tell you how hard it is to write it wrong but still keep it understandable which is why I only do it occasionally. If it is too distracting with the inconsistency let me know. Or if it works I will keep on doing it how I am doing it right now. I want to create that foreigner vib but if it distracts from the story I will just write it correctly and you can use your imagination. I am a huge vikings fan and I LOVE Lagartha because she is awesome. I based a lot of Thyra's culture from vikings as well and because I love Lagartha I based Thyra's appearance off of her a lot. Not necessarily her facial features or personality but definitely her hair style and clothing. So if you need help visualizing her, think of Lagartha with really dark eyes and a lot more tattoos. Speaking of tattoos the one on Thyra's forearm was inspired by a variation of Jörmungandr and Yggdrasil and the one on her shoulder is a simple Helm of Awe. The eye scar I feel is pretty obvious.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Third Encounter: Part II

Morning rays of springs sunlight permeated through the fresh leaves of the ash and oak trees that hung over the terrace. Dew drops sparkled like crystal ornaments from their lush green leaves, bringing a tranquil atmosphere to the breakfast table.

Thorin had awoken at dawn and the morning mist was beginning to disperse from the earth when he exited his chambers. By the raucous choirs of various snores rumbling from farther down the hall, he assumed the rest of the company were taking advantage of their current situation and were sleeping in.

He on the other hand been restless all through the night. His mind plagued with worry, wonder, and wanting.

In need of fresh air and more space than the small confines of his room, he had found himself on the same terrace in which they had dined the night before. To his pleasure, a small breakfast spread was already arranged and awaiting. Having hardly touched his food from supper, Thorin was more than willing to sit himself down and partake of the food ,despite the lack of meat provided.

With nothing but the soft chirps of birds to break silence, his solitude was peaceful but short lived when he heard the light footsteps of someone else approaching. Given the lightness, he had expected an elf but it was Sigurd who came out from the arched entrance.

He noticed her come up short when she saw him sitting at the table but after a short bout of hesitation, she timidly walked up to the table and took a seat on the other side of the table just slightly to his left.

Thorin watched her from the corner of his eye. The way she elegantly served herself and shyly greeted him with a soft, but polite salutations, was familiar to another person he knew. Although perhaps slightly more timid than when he had first met Asha, her mannerisms were very similar.

Asha had been witty and bold, but it was the warm gentleness that she had when speaking with others that he found the similarity. He had seen the way Sigurd had kindly spoken with his men during dinner last night. Especially with his youngest nephew.

Kíli had always been different than his peers. Thorin had never understood it, but Kíli always had a hard time speaking with them and struggled even more in making friends of them. The older generations always seemed to get along with him but it was those of his age group that Kili struggled with.

It was certainly not for lack of trying. For years Thorin could not help but notice the distance that the younger dwarfs of their community would give Kíli. There were only a handful that tolerated him and Thorin often wondered if it was only because of Fíli.

Fíli was the perfect example of a dwarf that others were always comparing Kíli to. He excelled at almost everything he tried where Kíli often struggled. He lacked the focus that his elder brother had. Thorin knew this was why Fíli always looked out and protected his younger brother so closely. Thorin was certain that it was more guilt than any brotherly bond that caused Fíli to have that urge to protect him. Thorin admired his nephews tenacity to look after his brother but often times he wondered if he was unintentionally crippling Kíli by doing it.

Kíli reminded Thorin of his own younger brother. He remembered having that same feeling of guilt. But he also remembered the day that Frerin had asked him to stop treating him like a brother and instead as a peer. He remembered being hurt by his brothers words at first but when he stepped back and let his brother struggle on his own, he realized something else. His brother was becoming stronger and more confident in himself. In fact, Thorin often wondered if he created a narcissistic monster by letting his brother become so self assured.

Thorin smiled at the memory of his little brothers arrogance but it was short lived and the familiar ache of loss that filled his chest brought him back to reality. He looked at Sigurd again and contemplated her.

"How long have you known Asha for?"

His curiosity had gotten the better of him and with only the birds to fill the silence, he kept finding his mind wandering to the matters in which deprived him of his sleep. So he extended the question in hopes for a distraction.

Upon hearing him speak, Sigurd paused in her chewing and looked at him. He could see the intimidation in her eyes and began wondering if she would suddenly run away. But to his surprise she slowly finished chewing, swallowed, then gave him a small smile. It was an action that was so much like Asha. The transformation from timid to polite conversationalist.

"All my life," she answered. "Asha was the one who raised me."

Thorin did not miss the phrasing of her words.

"Raised, but not give birth?"

She nodded. Thorin could not help but feel a twinge of relief he knew he should not have felt. But it was there all the same. The coloring of Sigurd's hair reminded him too much of Ivor. Combined with the mannerism of Asha, he could not ignore the possibility of it. They had been married making it not implausible.

 _Ivor_.

His blood curdled at the thought of the man.

He noticed Sigurd looking at him strangely then realized he had his fork in a death grip and felt his face had creased itself in anger. He could only imagine the hateful look he was currently giving her and he quickly forced himself to push down the heated ire. With a deep breath he looked at her again with his best effort to soften his features.

"So no blood relation but she is your adopted mother?" Thorin inquired.

A small frown pulled at her lips and she looked down at her plate.

"No," she said quietly before looking up. "It is...complicated. She did raise me, but...I had my own mother."

Thorin could see pain behind those blue eyes and knew there was much more to the story. But he recognized the want of avoidance to speak of painful memories all too well. He let the matter go and moved on to another question that had been plaguing his mind since last night.

"What do you know of a man by the name of Ivor?" Thorin asked as he did his best not to spit out a cursing along with the name.

Long ago he would have assumed without hesitation that the man had perished with the others locked away in Dhom. He was the one person in which he always felt deserved that damning fate. But that was before he knew anyone had managed to escape. Now, he was not so certain.

Sigurd's downcast expression shifted into puzzlement.

"Ivor?" she echoed. Her face crumpled as if straining to recall something. After giving his question much thought she gave a sincere answer. "I do not recall knowing anyone by that name. Nor does it bring anything to mind. Why do you ask?"

Thorin traced her face, unsure if he really believed her words. Surely if this girl had been raised by Asha as she claimed, she would have heard at least mention of the man.

"I knew Asha before...when she still identified herself as the Brimir heir. She was married to a man by the name of Ivor just before Dhom fell."

Clarity seemed to come to Sigurd's face as she nodded in understanding.

"We are...forbidden...to speak of times before." Sigurd said hesitantly.

"Forbidden?" Thorin parroted. "By whom? Who are we? The rest of the survivors?"

It was obvious that they had just breached into a topic that Sigurd was not necessarily unwilling to share, but more of unsure if it was allowed. She opened her mouth to answer, struggled to form words, then shut her mouth again. Suddenly her eyes strayed from him and settled on something just past his shoulder.

Thorin turned his head to follow the girls attention to see Thyra standing at the top of the stairs that descended down into the gardens below.

Dressed in a similar attire as the night before, this time with a plum tunic beneath the brown leather to cover her arms and hide her tattoos. Her hair was woven and pleated at the sides then pulled up into a ponytail and left to fall heavily down the straight of her back. The focus of her dark eyes were solely on Sigurd.

With a masked expression she spoke to Sigurd in Régínn. Her tone sounding rigid and accusing.

Thorin looked back to Sigurd who nodded and slowly stood from her half eaten plate.

"I must excuse myself," she said in a polite apology. "I have a lot to do in a short amount of time today."

She was gone before Thorin could even acknowledge her excusal. As she disappeared he turned back to see Thyra was now watching him.

It was not threatening nor warying but instead it was a small glimmer of curiosity. Seeing that he was watching her in return, she moved closer and took a seat next to Sigurd's recently vacated spot, centering herself directly across from him. Thorin watched her survey the arrangement and noticed that she seemed dissatisfied with the choices as well.

"My grandfather always told me that a meal was never ready to be consumed until the pig and hen were present," Thorin commented as he watched her sniffing at a strange colored, root like vegetable.

Her dark eyes flashed from the table spread up to him.

For a moment he thought she would ignore him and go back to picking at the various dishes but something changed in her eyes.

They brightened. And then the left corner of her mouth twitched into a smirk as she let out a small breath of amusement. She then looked back to the table and began to grab a few grapes and a flaky pastry glazed with honey.

"My grandfather say you must have fish," she suddenly said, her accent heavy and grammar still off. "So he have bones to pick his teeth at the finish."

Thorin let out a small laugh and took a sip of his tea which steamed in the coldness of the morning.

He looked at the young girl who was now quietly eating her food and keeping her eyes trained on her plate. He could not deny that he was curious about her. He had met Régínn in the past but as Asha had said, Erebor was not quite as welcoming to them as Dhom. Especially in the later years when his grandfather had begun to cut off ties with his growing paranoia.

Thorin definitely did not know the language fluently. As a boy he had known a few phrases and perhaps a word or two extra but they had long since lost their meanings in his mind.

Thyra was shockingly young to be all the way over here and seemingly without any of her kin, or from what he knew of. He had gained only a small fraction of information from Sigurd in the conversation she had with the others from the previous night.

He could have asked about it earlier when Sigurd was still here but he had other topics that he was more curious to know. He had gained some from their earlier but brief conversation. But there were still many things he wished to know.

Taking in Thyra, he wondered if perhaps he could glean anything additional from this girl instead.

Instinct told him Thyra was much too perceptive to be deceived and she was not as congenial as her companion. So he would have to go about it without seeming too direct, yet not quite so prevaricate. It needed to seem like a natural flow of conversation.

"Your grandfather sounds like he was a man of great wisdom," he commented. "What did he do for a living?"

Thyra looked up at him, her eyes searching.

He waited patiently for her to answer as he let her scan his face. He kept it schooled. Hoping to look like he was merely offering conversation.

"Fisherman," she said finally.

Thorin nodded. "Ah, a rare occupation amongst our kind."

She shook her head.

"Yours, yes. Mine, no."

"Yes of course," Thorin corrected himself. "But if it is anything like a farmer or shepherd, it is an admirable occupation. From what I recall of your Kingdom, precious stones and ore where favored just like us. Most prefer to spend their days in the mines where they can gain their wealth but you cannot live off of gold. One must have food."

Thyra only shrugged at his comment.

"It was...adequate depending on circumstances and who judged. He could have done more but he claimed it was his calling."

Thorin nodded.

"We all have our calling in life. Some try to avoid them, some accept them. But if there is one thing I have learned in my nearly two centuries of life, it is that they are unavoidable. No matter how much we resist. Our fates are sealed by the will of the Valar."

His words caused a deep frown to set on her face. He waited for her to respond but after his statement, she seemed to have decided that she was done talking as she began to pick at her food.

It was now Thorin's turn to frown. He had been feeling successful in their flow of conversation up until now. But it was now apparent it would be more difficult than he thought. Deciding to take a different approach, he decided to not beat around the bush.

The more he calculated the girl, the more it became obvious that she was one of blunt honesty. Given some of the remakes he overheard from the night before he decided to approach the subject in the same manor.

"What are you doing here?"

"Gathering herbs," she replied.

Thorin shook his head knowing very well she knew what he had originally meant. But she was obviously trying to direct the conversation away from the subject. It was a divergence tactic he had seen played many times within the courtroom of his grandfather.

He suppressed a chuckle but there was still a small quirk of his lip that lifted his lips into a small smile.

 _Clever girl._

"I mean, what are you doing in these lands so far from home?" He clarified, giving her no chance of escape.

He was curious how she would answer and see just how extensive her tactics of conversation were.

Her eyes narrowed.

"I came from east, to seek west."

Thorin could not help but laugh at her answer.

"I believe that is what your ancestors said when they first arrived," he said catching her attention.

"We had good trading with them for centuries, although in the more recent century your kind have been scarce in these parts." He watched her carefully as she reached out to pour herself some tea. "Tell me, are you a voyager set out to bring back those traditions?"

Thyra slowly added milk and a small spoonful of honey to her tea.

Thorin watched her stir her tea slowly with the silver elven tea spoon that nearly looked like a normal sized spoon in her small hands. As she lightly tapped the metal against the rim of the cup and placed it to the side, her eyes moved up to him. Her freshly prepared tea remained on the table, cupped in her hands as she let her eyes rove all across the planes of his face.

She was contemplating, so Thorin waited.

But when she spoke again, it was not the subject that he was expecting.

"Why you do it?"

Thorin blinked at her question.

"Do what?"

Thyra chewed the inside of her cheek.

"Regain your home when you have one already built? Your people, they not happy?"

It was a question he had asked himself many times. Yes she was correct. He had rebuilt a home for his people. It was meager compared to Erebor and his people were just beginning to thrive as they adapted.

But that was something that always bothered him. They were happy but something always felt wrong, missing. Their essence was not complete. They were no longer the same as they once were. His people were not his people anymore, they had changed.

"I do it because it is my duty as the heir of the throne. I do it to give my people what they deserve. My people have built a life, but it is not their home." He looked at her steadily. "Erebor is there home. Erebor is where they can be who they were meant to be"

"I hear a dragon lives within your home," she replied. "You are willing to face it with such small numbers?"

"I would face it alone if it meant a chance at reclaiming my home and restoring my peoples dignity."

Thyra watched him again for a long while.

"Your people are lucky," she commented.

"I would hardly consider being forced from their home to travel with nothing but the clothes on their backs, lucky. I would hardly consider losing hundreds of loved ones in an attempt to retake an old home, lucky. I would not consider scrambling together, working for men, and building a hovel of a city when compared to Erebor, lucky."

Thyra slowly lifted the sleeve on her left arm to reveal the seared skin on the inside of her forearm.

Thorin felt as if the eye itself was staring into his soul, as if it could see him, and knew who he was. He could only look at it for a moment before the feeling became too overwhelming. When he averted his eyes from the scar, he was met with dark eyes that burned with hatred.

"My king sold his people into slavery," she said darkly. "They are prisoners within their own home."

Thorin was at a loss for words.

Thyra let her sleeve fall down and moved her hands to the teacup that sat before her. Her eyes stared down at milky liquid before lifting it and taking a sip. Gently, she set it down.

The light click of porcelain against the stone table was drowned out by a ruckus coming from the hallway. They each looked in the direction of the noise to find a large majority of the company emerge from the doorway.

Thorin watched as the corner of Thyra's eye twitched and her back straighten when Fíli emerged. She turned her head to face him, her long hair falling from her shoulder behind her back from the movement.

"As I said, your people are lucky to have you."

With that said, she rose from her seat and walked away, taking the exit she had come in from.

Thorin watched her retreating back as she disappeared into the garden. When he turned back around he caught Fíli watching her but with a very different expression than his own observant watch.

Fíli's normally kind face was pinched and he could see the strain in his cheek muscles that told him he was gritting his teeth. Thorin shook his head in bewilderment as he went back to finishing his meatless breakfast.

Never in his life did he think someone would ever manage to get under his nephews skin so easily and without any reason. Yes; perhaps Thyra was certainly a mystery but he found her to be no threat.

Thorin was not foolish enough to underestimate her. There was no denying she was dangerous. Dangerous but not a threat to them. At least not at the moment.

* * *

Kíli held his belly as he and his brother walked down the corridor to the room in which they were staying. At breakfast Thorin had announced that they would use this day to rest up and have one more full night's rest then depart at high noon tomorrow.

"As much as I love having a bed," began Kíli as he continued to rub his belly which was still growling even after breakfast, "I don't think I could last another full day if all we have to eat are a few leaves and some measly air fluffed pastries."

Fíli hummed his agreement as they came up to their room. From behind the door opposite theirs, they could hear rustling and the sound of drawers being opened and shut.

The two brothers exchanged questioning looks before Fíli finally shrugged and pushed open their door. They had agreed to have a small sparring match and had returned to retrieve their weapons.

However, when Fíli looked back he saw his brother still looking at the closed door across from their own.

"Kíli," Fíli called out.

His brother turned to look at him and Fíli beckoned with his head for him to enter into their room. Kíli took one step but his head was pulled back to the door.

"Do you think they would like to join us?" Kíli asked.

Fíli contemplated the idea.

He liked Sigurd. She was most likely the only girl who gave his brother equal amounts of attention to him as he himself gave to Kíli. But he did not like the idea of Kíli getting too attached to the girl.

It was not that he was jealous, nor did he disapprove of her. He just did not want to see his brother get hurt. Sigurd was a nice girl, and that was the problem. She was kind to everyone and he was worried that Kíli was getting the wrong idea and would interpret her general politeness as something more.

Then again, she seemed sincere in her kindness and he knew his brother had few people who treated him as such. It was just unfortunate that Sigurd she seemed to always come paired with another, less tolerable girl.

Thyra.

As soon as the second girl popped into his head, Fíli frowned and looked at his brother.

"No," he said. "Don't bother them, they probably have their own things to be doing. Sigurd said they were here on business. So let her be, she is busy."

Sure that his brother would follow him into the room. Fíli turned back around to walk over to his belongings but stopped when he heard a light knock on wood. He turned around to see his brother still outside of their room but no longer at the doorway.

Instead he was standing across the hall with his fist poised to knock again. Fíli moved quickly.

"Kíli donー"

It was too late. Fili was cut off when the door opened abruptly to reveal Sigurd dressed in a thick tunic and pants. Her blue eyes widened in surprise and making it apparent she had not been expecting company.

Kili was just about to extend an invitation to join them in a spar when he noticed the packed bag and travel cloak strewn across the visible bed farther into the room.

"Are you leaving?"

Sigurd's eyes moved past his shoulder to Fíli standing a small distance behind then back to Kíli. She let out an affirmative hum as she nodded.

"But I thought you were not leaving until tomorrow morning?" Kíli replied, sounding slightly miffed.

Sigurd gave him a sympathetic smile.

"We are leaving in a few hours."

"Oh," Kíli, physically sagged.

"Was there something you needed?"

"We wanted to see if you would join us in a spar...but it seems you are a bit short on time."

Fíli could hear the disappointment in his brothers voice and given by the guilty look in Sigurd's face, it was obvious she could hear it too.

Sigurd nodded then paused for a moment, obviously conflicted between continuing with her packing, and spending some time with them. Then her eyes lit up as an idea came to mind. She opened her door wider and stepped to the side, revealing a second bed that was covered in loose parchment, vials, and various plants.

"Would you like to come in?" she asked. "You could keep me company while I pack." Her eyes drifted back to Fíli. "Thyra is not here," she added in a knowing tone.

Kíli brightened at the invitation and immediately walked into the room, letting his eyes fall over everything within sight. It was similar to their own room. Sigurd had pulled the curtains back from the window and a soft breeze came through one of the open panels, letting in a refreshing flow. The soft sounds of the trickle of water from the pond in the courtyard located just below brought a soothing serenity.

The only difference between their room and this one, was the personal belongings that were scattered throughout the room. On the left bed, a bag was already neatly packed. Kíli noticed the large broad sword and shield that Thyra owned standing up against it.

On the other bed, a mess of papers and hand drawings were strewn about. Bundles of various herbs, plants, and dried berries where half wrapped in parchment or tied together with cords of string. Glass vials where mixed in amongst the mess. They clinked together as Sigurd began to collect them and place them in a leather pouch. They were filled with a myriad of liquids that varied in viscosity and color.

Kili walked closer and noticed the hand drawings were of various plants with the name inscribed and a small description of the plants appearance, location to be found, and used. He picked up one of the pieces of parchment and looked at Sigurd.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

Sigurd had been watching him and she shook her head.

"Go ahead."

With permission, Kíli examined the drawings, spending a little more time on a certain drawing every so often to read a description.

"Did you do this?" he asked, looking at her.

"Thyra drew most of them for me," she admitted. "She has quite a gift. You can see the difference between the ones that I did verses her's."

Kíli smiled as he came across a drawing that was obviously one that she had done. If he squinted just right he thought it could possibly be a patch of some kind of lichen plant.

"They are not too bad," he said encouragingly. He held up the drawing he had been looking at. "This is that mossy looking fungus that grows on rocks, right?"

Sigurd grimace and turned red.

"It was supposed to be an oak leaf."

Kíli looked back down at the drawing.

"Oh, I see it now," he lied.

Sigurd gave him an appreciative smile but then shrugged.

"You are sweet but I know I am horrible. Thankfully I have Thyra to help me out. In fact that is where she is right now. I had a few more resources to collect and draw and since we are leaving earlier than expected she is helping me finish up as much as I can before we leave."

"If you have more to do why are you leaving?" Kíli asked as he took a seat on the windowsill. "I thought your original plan was to leave tomorrow morning."

Sigurd placed the leather pouch of vials into her bag then moved on to wrapping the bundles of various plants in protective cloth.

"It was, but Thyra said we have to leave today."

"So because she says so, you have to leave early? What is she, your commanding officer?"

Sigurd paused in her work to look behind her where Fíli was standing in the doorway. His arms were crossed and his face full of disapproval.

"No, she is not. Nor am I, hers," Sigurd said uncharacteristically firm.

She seemed to hesitate to go on in her explanation but finally continued with the reasoning behind their abrupt departure.

"Thyra saw an owl in an elm tree this morning. She said it means that bad luck is ahead and the owl is a warning to hurry before it crosses our path."

Fíli let out a skeptical snort.

"So she sees a bird in a tree and says you have to leave early?" Fili snarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Sounds valid considering it is such an unnatural place for a bird to be."

"Fíli…" Kíli began but was cut off when Sigurd raised her hand.

"It's fine," she said calmly before looking back Fíli.

She took a deep breath and lifted her chin, as if collecting courage from the air.

"One thing that I have learned in my years with having a Régínn around is that they are extremely superstitious. I was like you when I first met her. Sceptical, dubious, disbelieving. But over the years, in the few times that I have ignored her warnings, it has always ended badly. Thyra gave me a choice and I decided it would be best to listen." She nodded her chin at him. "If you were smart, your company would leave tonight as well if you are headed in the same direction as we are."

Fíli did his best to keep his eyes from rolling.

 _Who in their right mind takes advice from birds._

Despite his thoughts, he still nodded.

"I appreciate the warning but I am sure Thorin already knows what is best for our company. I trust my uncle more than some... _bird_."

Sigurd looked back to Kíli who only shook his head. They each knew what undertoned the meaning of his sentence. It was not the owl he was referring to in being untrustworthy. Sigurd shrugged it off then went back to her work.

"Are you a healer?" Kíli asked as in an attempt to smooth over his brothers uncharacteristically abrasive behavior. "You mentioned helping to care for Thyra when you first found her."

"More like an aspiring healer," she corrected. "I have the basics but I am no master in the trade, in fact it is partially why I am here. Elrond has a gift for healing and has been teaching me over the years when we visit Rivendell.

"What inspired you to pursue such a career?"

Sigurd paused in her work, her hand poised just above a bundle of dried thistle. For a moment she stared blankly but just before Kíli could ask if she was okay, she looked up at him. A forced smile came to her face.

"I wanted to help those who needed it."

"I started small with the basics, such as simple stitches, herbs to fight infection, and other everyday knowledge a healer would know. But one day, Asha brought me with her to come here. Lord Elrond offered to extend my knowledge of healing by teaching me some of his own healing skills."

For an hour continued to speak, mostly about various plants and healing techniques Sigurd had learned.

Kíli was now standing by the bed helping her wrap up her collection and Fíli found himself wandering over to the window to watch Dwalin, Nori, and Bifur practicing in the courtyard as he listened to their chatter.

Their conversation moved to other topics as Kíli described their adventures so far on their journey. Their departure from home, the dinner at Bilbo's home, their meeting with Radagast, and how they ended up in Rivendell.

The more they talked, the more Fíli noticed the signs of anxiety within Sigurd had slowly receded and became less frequent. Sigurd was now laughing merrily as Kíli described what they had done to Bilbo's home. Going into full detail of how they had all arrived unannounced and raided the poor hobbits cellar.

"You didn't!" Sigurd exclaimed in shock. "When I was ten, I once stole a single grape off of a halflings plate and he nearly bit my finger off."

Fíli and Kíli burst into chuckles and then started describing how Bilbo had thrown a fit when Nori had used his doily as a dishcloth.

As they were just finishing their story of Bilbo almost turning around because he had not brought a handkerchief, the latch to the door lifted and swung open.

Thyra first stared at Kíli who was lounging on Sigurds bed. His back was braced against the wall with his feet hanging over the edge. Then her eyes moved to Sigurd sitting neatly at the edge of her bed with her packed bag in her lap. Finally, her attention moved to Fíli who was still positioned at the window.

" _ **What are they doing here**_ " _,_ Thyra asked in Régan as her eyes moved between the two princes'.

Sigurd rolled her eyes.

"They came to visit," she replied in Westron as she pointed to the empty bed across the room. "Join us."

Thyra shot another glance at each of the brothers. She then entered and held out a small stack of papers to Sigurd.

" _ **Did you finish packing?**_ " Thyra asked, continuing in her own tongue and ignoring Sigurd's invitation.

As she tucked away the papers given to her, Sigurd nodded. Thyra gave her own nod then walked over to her bed. Without delay, she fastened the baldric holding her sword around her shoulder, added her pack, then slung her shield over the first two.

"We leave," she said, then walked towards the door. She paused at the threshold and looked back to Fíli. "Bad luck if you leave tomorrow."

She did not wait for a response. She only turned her attention to Sigurd, nodded for her to follow, then departed.

Sigurd was less abrupt in her departure. She thanked Kíli for the help then gave a farewell to both of them individually before following after in Thyra's wake.

"Do you think we should talk to Thorin about leaving early as well?" Kili asked.

Fíli could not help but feel a slight tingle on the back of his neck as he felt the hairs raise. Something felt off but despite Kíli's suggestion, he brushed aside Thyra's warning. There was no point in pestering their uncle about such superstitious matters. What really could possibly happen as they crossed through the Misty Mountains.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Just a quick note to help clarify. The company has just escaped the goblin king and they have not been chased by Azog...yet.**

Chapter 6: The Fourth Encounter: Part I

The tremors that coursed through his body as the adrenaline of escaping the nest of goblins became less and less with each passing hour. It was more of a numbing sensation now, but it still took a great amount of effort to try and keep from letting others see that his hands were still shaking.

It had been too close. And it was only thanks to Gandalf's sudden appearance that they were safe.

Once again, Thorin was beginning to feel doubt.

Already they had been nearly eaten by trolls, hunted by orcs, and captured by a swarm of goblins. With each incident they had been saved by someone else. With the trolls it had been Asha and her two girls along with Gandalf's timely arrival that had saved them. Then with the orcs it was Radagast's decoy and Elrond's people they had been able to outrun the orcs. And just now with the goblins, it was Gandalf again.

Perhaps Elrond had been right. Perhaps Asha had been right. This quest was a futile attempt with such a small group.

He took a moment to look back at the lagging group following behind him. They looked shaken and a bit battered, but thankfully nothing too serious. A few bruises and some minor abrasions that would heal with time.

The biggest worry was the lack of supplies they now had. They had their weapons and a few of them had managed to grab a few additional supplies but it would not be enough to go around let alone last the rest of the journey. Which brought him to their next problem.

They were in wild country now. There were far and few settlements that lay between them and the mountain on this side of the Misty Mountains. It was possible there were some he did not know of but he did not like the idea of wandering into a settlement that was unfamiliar. And the ones he did have knowledge of, he was not willing to enter in. This left him in a tight predicament.

He looked ahead to continue guiding his men but only made it a few more meters when he suddenly stopped.

Something was not right. It was too quiet, too still.

He strained his ears and again was struck by the stillness. Not a rustle of a birds wings or the chirping of a cricket.

He raised his arm, calling everyone to a halt.

Without giving a verbal command, Thorin signaled to his men with his hands to prepare themselves. He could see the alarm in their eyes. Having just barely escaped the swarm, he could tell that they were already too exhausted to fight again without any food or rest in between. But he was proud of their willingness to at least try.

Everything was still as they all grouped closer together. Again the silence and stillness of the wooded area caused Throin's hair to stand on end. He ignored the shiver that yearned to pass down his body and swallowed with great difficulty as his pulse thundered against his throat.

Silence bore down on them. Thorin was just beginning to think he would suffocate under its stifling heaviness, when a sharp whistle sounded.

It was crisp and seemed to echo throughout the otherwise silent wilderness. As the whistle faded into the distance, it fell silent for a moment, and then, the bushes moved.

Rustling filled his ears as leaves and branches began to move all around them. Compared to the earlier stillness it sounded like the thundering of a waterfall plunging into a rocky surface below.

He searched the perimeter, looking for a direction in which they could retreat but figures from all around emerged from the underbrush. Cloaked in forest green cloth, it was as if they had been part of the actual forest.

Thorin quickly spun around.

There were eighteen of them of them, all varying in height and mass. Their faces were covered in a similar dark green cloth that covered the lower half of each of their faces. Only their eyes were visible and within each pair, there was a menacing threat.

"Well, well, well," came a male voice in a mocking tone.

Thorin followed the sound to a figure to his left.

He was of average size for a dwarf. The moment Thorin turned to face the man who had spoken, the man's light brown eyes, tinged with green were drawn to him. Despite the fact that man's mouth was covered, he could tell by the way the cloth shifted upwards, the man was smiling at him.

"Prince Thorin of Erebor. Never would have thought I would see you looking so ragged like pedler."

Thorin narrowed his eyes trying to recollect any familiarity.

"Do I know you?"

The man slowly lifted his hand and pulled down his mask, revealing a heavily marred face. Thorin had not noticed at first, but now that the larger part of the scars were revealed, the deep gashes that ran from the corner of his eyes down to his jaw line were all Thorin could focus on.

Each side of his face bore four marks. It looked as if something had tried to gouge his eyes out and resisted to be pulled away.

When he finally managed to look past the scars, Thorin took in the topography of his face. He took in the shape of his nose and the red hair that made up the patchy beard that had been disrupted in growth by his scars. Despite the familiarity in which the man addressed him, Thorin was positive he did not know this man. He would have remembered such a face with distinct markings.

"Framir," came another man's voice to Thorin's right. "Keep your tongue silenced."

Thorin watched Framir scowl in the mans direction but he said nothing more. Looking to the man who had just spoken, Thorin looked him up and down. He too was obviously dwarven. Perhaps not quite as large as Dwalin, but he would definitely give his warrior friend a good enough beating. The man stepped forward and like his comrade, removed the cloth covering his face and lowered his hood.

Dark brown hair was tied back away from his face. A short beard grew on his face with the occasional grey hair to lighten its color. His grey eyes wandered around the company of Thorin, taking in and assessing each member with calculation. It was obvious that this man was in charge of the group. The way the others shifted every once in a while as if looking for some sort of signal or gesture that would give a command.

"What is the meaning of this?" Thorin demanded when he felt they had been examined enough. "We have nothing of value within our possession."

Thorin caught Bilbo shift oddly from the corner of his eye as the hobbit grasped at his side pocket. But the movement was not enough to cause any more attention so he focused fully on the grey eyed man.

"However," he continued, "we still have our weapons, so it would be best if you just let us be on our way and find someone more defenseless and wealthy to prey upon."

The man's thin lips split open to reveal a row of straight white teeth with a single flaw that manifested as a small gap between his left cuspids. It gave him a roguish look as he let out a small chuckle. With their leader's example, Thorin heard a few others let out soft chuckles.

"We are not bandits seeking money, nor do we prey on the defenseless," the man answered.

"Then what are you?" asked Thorin. "And why do you stop us? We have not been hostile to you in anyway nor do we pose a threat. We are merely passing through. You have no reason一"

"You are trespassing within outlands," the man replied, cutting Thorin off. "That is reason enough to stop you and treat you as a threat."

Thorin crumpled his brow in confusion. "There are no borders in this area," he objected. "These lands are neutral, unowned. They belong to no one. We have every right to pass through them."

The man clucked his tongue. "Perhaps these lands have no definite border, but at the moment they belong to us for whatever temporary time they will be needed. Because of this I cannot allow you to pass through so freely."

Thorin gritted his teeth. He did not have time to waste taking detours. But it seemed by the time he would finish speaking with this man, they would waste just as much or perhaps more.

"Then where do you borders end?" Thorin growled. "We will go around."

The man smirked and Thorin knew that whatever humor the man was hosting, it would be at their expense.

"I am afraid that is impossible," he replied. "You have already entered our lands. By our rules, no one outside of our faction is allowed to leave without permission of our leader."

"And who exactly would that be?" Dwalin growled as he took a step forward. "We will not go so willingly with you. Do not assume we will not fight."

Dwalin's comments only caused the man to smirk more as his grey eyes raked over the group again.

"I do not doubt that," he said casually. "But we outnumber you eighteen to your fourteen."

Thorin looked at him in confusion. The man was mistaken in his calculation, there were fifteen in his company. While that still left them outnumbered, it made a difference in their odds.

Thorin looked around at the group. As his eyes roved around his hundled men, he realized to his annoyance that the man was in fact correct. There were only fourteen of them. Gandalf was mysteriously absent...again.

Thorin cursed the wizard under his breath in Khuzdul. When he turned back around it was obvious that the leader of the group had caught his moment of frustration.

"You look weary," the man said. "I will tell you what, surrender your weapons to us willingly and we will let you walk back to our encampment. Fight, and you will find yourself hog tied and dragged. The choice is yours."

Thorin looked to Dwalin. His friend looked ready to fight, but he could tell by the way he failed to fully raise his axe that the man would not be up for his usual potential. He looked to the rest of the group and saw the same thing in others. Kili had yet to even pull his bow string back, Fili had his lighter knives at the ready instead of swords, and Gloin's axe had yet to be lifted. They all had the willingness to fight within their eyes but their bodies sagged.

He glanced around the group surrounding them, taking note that some of these masked figures where not just dwarves. Two men stood on either side of Frimar, and next to the leader, stood another taller being with the unmistakable features of an elf on the small visible portion of his face and ears. He looked back to Dwalin and gave him a small look that conveyed his decision.

Comply now, fight later.

* * *

They were allowed to walk into the camp themselves but that did not mean their captors made it easy. With their hands bound tightly behind their backs they were herded like sheep through the wilderness. Stumbling across branches and hidden roots that occasional broke the earth, they were led for a half mile southeast until they finally arrived at their captors so called camp.

Thorin knew they had arrived before he had caught a glimpse of anything that looked like an encampment.

As they crossed over a small stream, a horn sounded in the distance which was then echoed by three heavy thuds of a drum. While the beat of the drum still echoed in his ears, they breached the underbrush into a large clearing. What they were greeted with was far beyond what Thorin had imagined.

Camp was an understatement for what they had just walked upon. It was a city of tents. Filling the entirety of the clearing. Surrounding the edge of the forest was a wooden barricade of sharpened pikes to serve as a temporary defense wall.

Smoke rose up above the canvis dwellings from various campfires. The sounds of clashing swords, the thud of arrows, banging of pots, and loud shouts filled his ears. They had not just walked into a camp for eighteen men. They had walked in on the temporary fortress of a small army. The mass of it easily hosting two hundred soldiers.

As they stood on a raised cliff looking over the camp, Thorin turned to what he could only assume was the captain of the group. His grey eyes where already looking it him as he took in the astonished look on Thorin's face.

"Who are you?" Thorin managed to ask, his tone just barely above a whisper as he still struggled to process the sight before him. "Who are all of you?"

The captain looked him over before replying.

"My name is Habard," he gestured around to the camp spread out below them. "And we, are the Guild of the Lost."

Thorin felt his eyes widened. Of all the fates for him to befall how was it that he just happened to come across exactly what he needed. Thorin let a prayer rise up to Mahal in gratitude.

"You know of us?" Habard asked as he noticed the recognition in Thorin's eyes.

Thorin nodded.

"I have heard things. I heard whispers that you could possibly help us."

He heard a chuckle and looked at the man called Framir. As he saw the man laughing, Thorin was struck with a sudden familiarity. However, he had more important things to focus on so he ignored the scarred faced man.

Thorin looked back to Habard.

"You can try," Habard said with a tone of doubtfulness. "But you will be lucky enough to even get your free passage to cross our borders." Habard began to walk down the sloped trail that led to the camp. "Follow me."

Thorin watched him in confusion for a moment before he felt a nudge on his back. He turned to see Framir looking at him with a menacing sneer.

"Move it Durin," he snapped.

* * *

Habard led them through a breach in the barricade that served as a front gate, then waded through the sea of tents towards the center of the camp.

As they walked through, Fili took in their surroundings.

It was impressive. A wide assortment of dwarves of all ages and even a few other races were mixed in. Fili saw several men in a group with the occasional elf walking in the crowd. He even caught a glimpse of another hobbit dueling with a dwarf in a small arena while spectators cheered from the side.

They were all going about various activities. Cooking, sparring, gambling, there was even a temporary blacksmith built where several men and a dwarrowmaid were busy working. Each person they passed stopped their task to curiously watch the group being lead through their camp.

Fili ignored most of the stares but there was one he could not help but look towards. He could feel the person's eyes on him like a heated wind brushing up against his skin. The sensation caused him to cast a quick glance to his left. The moment he looked over to the sparring ring he was drawn to a set of familiar dark eyes.

Standing next to the arena, leaning against a fence post, was Thyra. Her arms were folded across her chest while one foot was propped up against the lowest rail as she watched them closely.

When he made eye contact and the surprise of recognition came to his face, a crooked smile formed on her lips. Her onyx eyes gleamed with amusement as she watched him being forcefully corralled with his hands bound and feet stumbling.

Before he could react, a large cart being pulled by two rams passed by, obstructing his view for a moment. When his view of the fighting circle was brought back, Fili found the spot where she had been standing was empty. He paused for a moment, searching for any sign of her before one of the guards shoved him forward and barked at him to keep moving.

"What is wrong?" Kili asked quietly when he noticed the disturbed look on his brothers face.

He kept his voice low and barely moved his lips in an attempt to avoid unwanted attention from the guards.

Fili was unsure of whether or not to tell his brother. Perhaps it had just been his imagination. Despite what their past history would indicate of the likelihood, it was just too much of a coincidence.

Deciding it had to be his imagination, Fili shook his head.

"It was nothing," he said, keeping the frustration out of his voice.

He saw his brother continue to watch him for a time before finally looking forward when he stumbled on a loose rock. Fili was feeling on edge now. Whether he had truly seen her or not, he did not like it. It was bad enough being in her actual presence only a few times, now his mind was seeing her even when she was not there.

* * *

As they made their way through the maze of tents, they were eventually led to the center of the camp where a square framed tent was set up. Covering it was several cured animal skins and fabric that had been stitched together and laid over the frame to make up four walls that met together in a slanted roof. A few people drifted in and out of the front flap but the traffic stopped at their approach.

When Habard reached the central tent, Thorin watched as the captain approached the tent and entered. Thorin moved to follow but the two guards standing at the door stepped forward to block his entry.

Thorin narrowed his eyes at them.

He was beginning to become annoyed at the treatment of himself and his men. They had complied and given their weapons up freely only to be bound and corralled like cattle. Now they were being denied immediate audience and as a result, delaying departure to return to his quest.

A moment later the captain pulled open the tent flap and laid a hand on each of the guards shoulders.

"You will have an audience with our leader who will decide if you will be granted to leave or not. You will also be open to contest for aid in whatever it is that you want. I suggest you treat our leader with the utmost respect, we do not tolerate rudeness nor prejudice within our camp," he said warning tone.

"Why would you assume I would not be respectful?" Thorin asked.

Habard smirked slightly in response but said nothing. He merely turned and walked into the tent as he beckoned for him to follow.

Thorin was left with no choice but to follow. Behind him, his men followed along with a few of their guards, one of them being Framir, but the rest dispersed to go about their other duties.

Coming from the bright afternoon light of day into the darkened tent, Thorin found himself momentarily blinded. The adjustment to the darker light was slow. But as he walked further into the tent and was able to take in its housings.

It was crowded with bodies. Several rows of long benches lined each side, creating a pathway down the middle. Dwarves male and female, sat crowded on the benches along with a few humans, and elves. Behind the rows of benches, another row of onlookers were standing.

It was as if the entire camp had attempted to fit itself within the tent. Every inch was occupied except a small path in the center leading to the back. Thorin looked down the small aisle to see where it would lead but he could only see the broad back of Habard.

Habard stopped halfway and brought his arm to his chest.

"We found trespassers on the north western border," he said with a quick half bow.

Then he moved to the side to allow Thorin to see whom he had been addressing.

Thorin's eyes opened wide and a sinking feeling fell into his stomach.

Before him was a large, throne like chair sitting on a raised dais. Sitting in the chair, dressed in a loose cotton dress and a green vest, was Asha.

Suddenly everything made sense. All the warnings Habard had given and the doubt he expressed. Even Gandalf's earlier conversation with Elrond about being unsure given recent events.

It was because he knew. He knew Asha was a member.

No, not a member, Thorin noted. She was the leader.

Asha was the leader of the Guild and the infuriating wizard failed to mention any of it.

Thorin looked at Framir a little more closely and suddenly it dawned on him.

Those scars that marred his face, claw marks, put there by goblins. He took in the familiar shade of red hair and hazel eyes and cursed himself for not realizing it sooner.

Queen Hava had a brother, that brother had a son, and his name was Framir. This was Asha's cousin making him a Brimir. It was then that the extensive reality truly hit him. They had just found the survivors that had been sealed away within Dhom.

Thorin tried to keep this tidal wave of information from shattering his already shaken mind as he looked back to Asha.

While her clothes were simple, there was something regal and powerful about her as she looked at him. Her eyes shone with authority and as he stood before her, he felt more like the simple blacksmith than the king he was entitled to be. She may have given up her true name and while she claimed that the royal family of the Brimir line was ended, she still exuded a royal aura. She was a queen without a crown.

Asha was leaned back with her legs crossed and arms draped over the armrests of her chair. But the moment she recognized the group before her, she adjusted her posture.

Her body leaned forward as her hands curled around the edge of the armrests.

Habard came up to her and whispered quietly into her ear. As he finished she nodded and he stepped back.

Asha's eyes moved slowly over the congregation of the room. Thorin could see her mind working behind her observant face. When she finally settled her attention on him, he saw a wisp of softness that he once always saw in those eyes.

Then they hardened.

"Thorin Oakenshield," she began in a taunting tone. "Or once known as the Prince of Erebor. But it seems you now hunger for the title of King."

At her words of naming both prince and place, a rumbling wave of whispers flowed through the tent. Most of them surprised reactions to the news of reclaiming Erebor, but a few were angry and bitter cursings of the Durin name. Asha lifted a casual hand for silence and immediately the tent stilled.

"Habard tells me he found you on our northwestern borders," she stated as her finger casually traced the lines of the armrest of her wooden chair. Her eyes then flashed up to Thorin as she paused in her drawing. "He also said you expressed a desire to ask for aid the moment he revealed what our establishment was."

"You are the leader of the guild?" he said, doing his best to keep his voice normal as he still struggled to recover from his stunned state.

"So you have yet to give up on this fantasy of slaying a dragon and reclaiming the lonely mountain?" She asked, ignoring his question.

Thorin took a step forward.

"I would never give up the chance to reclaim my home," Thorin said firmly.

"Then you realized that your numbers were too small then. And you thought you would call on the aid of strangers to do the impossible?" she let her statement linger in the air before adding an inquiry. "Why not call upon your own kin?"

Thorin shifted uneasily.

"Dain has denied my request, he says I must possess the Arkenstone before he will help."

Asha cocked her head to the side as she prossed this information. All the while, Thorin tried and struggled to decipher what she was thinking. This personification she was displaying was unfamiliar, almost unrecognizable to the Asha he knew.

Slowly he watched as one of her thin eyebrows raised inquisitively.

"Your own blood will not help so you came to ask me?"

"I did not know that it was you that I would be asking," he clarified.

"Does it make a difference that it is me?"

"No," he replied instantly.

He then shifted on his feet as he worked his mind. Gandalf said he needed diplomacy to convince the leader of the Guild. Therefore, if he wanted this to be a success, he had to do this diplomatically.

"I know our families did not get along in the past. But you and I once thought we could breach those differences," he began but quickly continued when he saw her face became slightly pinched at his words. "I know I wronged you, I have regretted my words and actions many times, but this is not about what happened between two people. This is about regaining a home that would house thousands. Our kind deserve better than what they have been forced to do. Would you truly deny someone a chance to go home? Would you not do the same?"

Asha let her eyes move across the planes of his pleading face. But then she let them fall back down to her armrest where she went back to her tracing the grained lines of her chair.

"Tell me Thorin," she began in an inquisitive tone. "How did it feel to be trapped and swarmed within a mountain full of goblins?"

Thorin did not say a word. He was too surprised of her knowledge in what they had just gone through. How could she have known they had been captured? Had the guild been watching them long before they passed into their boundaries? Or did the Great Goblin's message of their capture spread that quickly across the land?

When Thorin failed to answer her question due to his ponderings, Asha looked back up at him, her eyes sharp and calculating.

"You reek of them," she said, answering his unvoiced questions. "We have been stationed here for three months trying to clear out that nest. And given your appearance, I can only assume that you came across them while passing through the mountains from Rivendell."

At first Thorin was surprised again but then he remembered Thyra and Sigurd had been in Rivendell at the same time. And he was willing to bet the entire treasury of Erebor that they were currently present within the confines of this camp as well.

Thorin nodded.

"Aye, that we did. And as you can see we just barely made it out. It was this event that I have realized my quest would be better executed with more numbers. And it is why I am asking for your help now."

When Asha did not immediately respond Thorin spoke again.

"Should we be successful, all will be well paid. As you know, Erebor has no shortage in gold. Name your price and it is yours."

Asha stared at him. He could see her mind working behind her eyes as they moved from him to the congregation, to the rest of the group. Finally her eyes moved down to her tracing finger.

"Did you know that goblins like their meat fresh?"

The moment her question was asked her eyes flashed back up to him, darkened with haunt and searching for a reaction.

She pointed to Framir.

"They tried to rip out my cousins eyes before he managed to free himself."

Her hand moved to a woman with blonde hair that was shaved on one side. She was wearing a simple tunic with the left sleeve cut off and sewn shut because there was no arm to fill it.

"Porda was kept in a cage, they cut off her arm when they grew hungry. And they were about to take the other when the others being held within the cage revolted. She was the only one who made it free."

She pointed to herself.

"I watched my mother tied to a post as they cut the meat from her body. She was still alive when they ripped out her tongue. I still remember the way she tried to scream but the blood that ran down her throat kept the air from leaving her lungs. She suffocated to death, drowned by her own blood."

A shiver ran down Thorin's back as the images played into his mind.

The horrors that those people had to live with. He himself had his own nightmares but after her descriptions, he felt as though his memories would be a pleasant dream for them.

Her finger then pointed to him.

"I sent a messenger to Erebor. My father told him to go to the Iron Hills but I told him to go to Erebor. I told him that it would be closer and that you would find a way to help. I told him you would not put hatred before the value of innocents."

There was a heavy pause in the air as Asha swallowed deeply. Thorin had heard a slight tremor building in her voice but when she spoke again, her voice was steady and empty of any emotion.

"The day after I calculated your arrival was the day they broke past our last defense. It was then I realized, Erebor was not coming. Our home became the host to our nightmares," she paused and Thorin could not find it in himself to look directly at her. "Tell me Thorin, why should we help you regain your home when you would not help us keep ours?"

A hot lump of guilt had formed in his throat. He remembered that messenger. He remembered the man who begged for his unstable grandfather to help. He remembered the way he stood silently while the messenger had been dragged away to the dungeons.

"I wanted to," Thorin replied in a strained voice. "I was the one who sent the message to King Gror after Thrór sent your man to the dungeons. It is no secret anymore of my grandfathers...sickness," he hesitated to diagnose the ailment with anything else. "He would not have helped anyone. By that time it did not matter if they held the name Brimir or Durin, they were all his enemies."

There was a shifting of people behind him and a sliver of sunlight appeared and disappeared.

All eyes and bodies, including Thorin, turned around to see the newcomer.

Gandalf looked around the enclosure, his eyes landing on Thorin where he stood before Asha. Giving a polite smile to those before him, the group parted to let the grey clothed man waded through the crowd to the front.

"Have I missed the vote?" he asked plainly, as if what they had been discussing previously was nothing more serious than the unusually mild spring they had been experiencing.

Thorin looked to Gandalf in confusion. Then he looked to Asha.

"Vote?"

"We here at the guild vote when it comes to decisions like these. We have an elected council that all vote," she replied before looking back to Gandalf. "Only a third of the council are present. We will not be able to cast a vote until two weeks time."

"I cannot wait that long," Thorin objected. "Time is precious."

"Then I guess you wasted that precious time coming here to ask." She answered callously. "Because the vote cannot be made unless two thirds of us can be represented."

"I believe it is the way of your people, that if immediate action is to be taken, then the decision can be put onto you…" Gandalf trailed off as a frown fell upon Asha's face.

Asha looked around at the gathering, taking in the mixed expressions.

Only a small portion of the population within the guild was from the original group that escaped Dhom, and of those few, even fewer where of Brimir blood.

The rest of their populace, they had gathered and joined over the decades. Human's from Dale, that had suffered from the wrath of Smaug as he made his way to Erebor. Halflings that had left their cozy holes in search of a more adventurous life. There were Elves that had deserted their tranquil home lands. They even had dwarves that had originated from Erebor within their group.

All of them had their different reasons for being here, but they all had one purpose in which they worked and fought for. Ridding the world of evil so others could live better.

But as she looked around, she could see the distaste in their eyes. The Durin's of Erebor had done well to gain many enemies in the world. While she knew most of this was not to be blamed on Thorin, it was part of his inheritance. The resentment of those wronged by his grandfather.

But she could also see the want in many of her people's eyes. They wanted to aid Thorin in his quest. And she did not blame them, most of these desires eyes belonged to those who originated from Erebor. Those who originated elsewhere but still held that desire, wanted it because it was part of the pledge they took when joining the guild.

To aid those who called for it.

They were a mixed group but all believed in that purpose and all had sworn words when they joined the guild. If they did not, then they were dismissed. It was just one of the many rules that had been established amongst the Guild members. It was what ensured complete cooperation.

But among those who wanted to help, there were plenty with opposing opinions.

If she were honest with herself, she too had her own reserved hesitation. She could not command those lacking in desire nor ask them to do such a thing even if she was not completely willing.

Her heart still beat for the man that was standing before her and she resented its treachery for acting in such a way.

It begged her to say yes, but she kept her mask on. It was the one thing that helped her bare the burden of having to live on after seeing so many of her loved ones die. The stoney shell she had made kept her broken heart pieces from falling onto the ground.

Thorin looked around as well and his heart sank. He could tell by many of the expressions within the tent that they all hoped Asha would deny his request. He looked to Asha herself and found a stoic face that was unreadable. He did his best not to shift or flinch when her eyes moved about the silent room. Everyone had grown still as they awaited Asha's response.

"Leave us," she commanded.

Noise erupted as the creaking of benches and shuffling of feet filled the air as all those present moved together in a mass exodus from the tent. The obedience to her words was nearly unbelievable as they all left without a single word of protest. When the tent flap fell closed only the small company and Asha remained. Despite the lack of people, the room still felt unbearably crowded as silence filled the empty spaces that had been earlier filled with solid bodies.

Asha looked to Gandalf with a glower.

"How dare you."

Gandalf's lifted a brow.

"I beg your pardon?"

Asha stood from her chair, her fists clenched as she stood, She was still a head shorter than the wizard, even with the extra height of the dais, but she held herself well enough that made an impact.

"How dare you put that decision upon me! You cannot expect me to ask that of them."

"Is it not the purpose of the guild?"

Asha's jaw tightened.

"Everything has an exception," she growled. "This is too personal."

"For you or them?" challenged Gandalf.

Asha hesitated then opened her mouth to reply but was halted when Thorin stepped forward.

"Asha," he said pleadingly. "I know I wronged you. I know my people wronged your's. But please...I will pay you anything...I will even help you in return to reclaim and rebuild Dhoー"

"I have no desire to ever set my eyes upon that place, let alone set foot inside that which became my own personal hell."

There was no facade of the utter loathing in her voice. It was pure truth, she did not need to pretend.

"That place stopped being my home the moment I watched the daylight being blocked away by the landslide covering the doorways."

Her eyes burned as angry tears formed and she fought to swallow them down.

"I thought you had come when I heard the first collapse. I thought someone had come to save us. I heard the second collapse coming from the west end and rejoiced that our saviors had breached two sides of the stronghold. But then I watched as the entrance before me collapsed and I was consumed by darkness. It was then I realized no one was coming."

Thorin opened his mouth to say something, but she lifted a hand for him to keep silent. Turning around, she walked towards the back end of the dais. She paused, keeping her back to him and head turned slightly. Not enough to look at him, but enough to ensure he would hear her clearly.

"Give me time to think," she said quietly. "Habard will show you the mess hall where you will find yourselves some food and drink."

Without waiting for a response, she took a step down and exited the tent from a flap located on the back. Thorin looked at Gandalf.

"I think that went quite well," Gandalf said happily.

Thorin furrowed his eyebrows.

"And where did you disappear to earlier?"

Gandalf gave him an innocent smile.

"Nature called."

 **. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Fourth Encounter Part II

Asha sat at a makeshift desk composed of a wide plank of wood balanced atop two barrels. Her posture was slumped as she stared down at the map pinned down by her elbows as she grasped her short rosy locks.

Eyes unfocused, her thoughts were compiled of other things that preoccupied her mind that had nothing to do with the sketched landscape of the map.

The sound of canvas flapping accompanied by a warm breeze that rustled her hair announced that she was no longer alone. Her eyes remained cast down, she did not need to look up to know who it was. When she blinked, the lines of the map suddenly came into focus to depict a sketched out cartograph of the area.

"We should find out what we can about the goblin swarm from Oakenshield before they leave," she said as she stood from the chair and continued to hover over the map. Still not looking at him, she began to trace various lines. "We have been unsuccessful in finding a route in three months, now is our opportunity. We can start planning now and when the group that went south to the brown lands returns, we can finally make our move."

"Asha," came the deep calming voice of Habard.

"If we work quick enough, we can be finished and ready to move on within two months," she continued without making any acknowledgment to his call for attention. She pointed to a spot on the map. "Framir said you first spotted them up here," she trailed her finger up to a section of the map that depicted the foothills of the mountain range. "The entrance in which they escaped must be somewhere over here. Which means there could be two ways一"

She stopped speaking when a large hand settled over hers. She froze, but still did not look up.

"Are you really not going to give them aid?"

Her fingers curled beneath his hand.

"It is not my decision to一"

"That is bullshit," he interceded. "We give purpose to those who are lost and we _fight_ for those who have lost," he recited. "That is what we do. That is what _you_ do. You built this guild with your rules and that motto." He paused for a moment then added quietly, "You already broke the rules today...don't break the motto too."

For the first time since he had entered she looked up at him. His grey eyes were stormy but she could not tell if it was anger, or disappointment that he was feeling.

Unable to keep eye contact any longer, she bowed her head.

"I am sorry," she whispered weakly. "I...I just...I wanted him to know. I wanted him to know what he put us through. I wanted him to feel guilty."

His hand left hers and found her chin. Pushing lightly, he forced her to look back up at him.

"Why?" he questioned. "I know I am not a Brimir, I did not harvest the feud but Dhom was my home. I too was bitter that Erebor did not come, but can we really blame Thorin? Who is to say their armies would have made a difference? Grór's army from the Iron Hills couldn't break through, why would you think Erebor's armies would be any different?"

"I always thought that...that he would…" Her eyes squeezed shut as they began to burn from the on coming tears that were threatening to appear. Taking in a deep breath, she shook her head slightly. "It is long past now. There is no changing it."

His hand fell from her chin and she heard him take a few steps towards the entrance of the tent. When she did not hear him depart, she cracked open her eyes to see him at the doorway, one hand paused on the opening. His dark mane shifted as he twisted to look at her, his grey eyes sympathetic and understanding.

"Ivor was never the father."

It was a statement, not a question.

Asha stared back at him.

"I never said he was," she replied calmly.

"But you never denied it when people assumed."

She swallowed.

"How did you know?" she asked quietly.

He tilted his head, looking at her with an ironic smile.

"Take several decades away and the eyes aside...he is the spitting image of him."

She gave him a weak smile.

"Yes. I suppose he is."

"Is that why you are refusing to help him?" he asked.

Asha stared blankly, unsure of how to answer. She looked down at the table and began tracing the mountain range drawn on the map.

"I honestly don't know why," she finally admitted. "I am conflicted between my own bitterness and the purpose that our lives now serve. I do not wish to be the spiteful woman, but...I am afraid. It hurt Habard, it still does."

Habard's expression softened. His grey eyes looked at her with empathy.

"My father once told me that if you could not make a decision, it would be better to flip a coin and let it go to chance. That way, if it all goes to shit, at least you can blame the coin and not yourself."

She looked at him curiously.

"So you are saying I should just flip a coin."

Habard shrugged.

"Flip a coin, throw some dice, pick a card…" he trailed off for a moment as he looked at her. "It's been awhile since we have had some entertainment around here. I can't imagine anyone could be disappointed no matter the outcome if they at least got to see a good show."

He winked at her and then left her to mull things over.

Asha looked down at the table.

At the corners and edges of the map, there were several stones laid upon it to keep it laid flat on the table. A particularly flat rock caught her eye and she let her hand move towards it. One side was utterly smooth while the other side was course. Her plam felt the soothing smoothness only to experience the scratching roughness of the other side as her fingers rotated it.

She had once made a wager many years ago. Its results led to the greatest and worst moments of her life. Love and heartbreak. Trust and devastation. Both sides of the spectrum. Just like the rock, rough and smooth. As the smooth side settled in her palm she curled her fingers around it so she could feel both surfaces.

Perhaps Habard's father had the right idealism. His son was also right.

It had been awhile since their camp had some entertainment. It would do well to boost morale. But it would not be a coin toss or a simple roll of the die. No, she had a much better idea.

Her eyes lifted up to the flap and she called out to the guard standing outside the tent. The moment the dwarf stepped through the flap he looked at her, waiting for her command.

"Tell Thorin Oakenshield that I have made my decision," she replied. "Have him and his group brought back to the central tent."

* * *

Not long after Asha had left them to think of her answer, Habard entered the tent, untied their bonds and bid them to follow him. As he led the company to another part of camp the smell of smoke and food began to become more pronounced until they arrived at the mess tent.

Several tables and benches where located under a large canopy with open walls. Several of them were occupied with large groups of men and women, all talking and laughing together. Habard weaved through the tables, occasionally greeting people who called out to him until he came to an empty table and stood in front of it.

"I was instructed to treat you as guests, you are free to wander anywhere in the camp but you are not permitted to leave the clearing," he specified. "However, I would suggest staying here until a decision has been made so that you may receive your answer more swiftly. If you need help, ask anyone and they will help you or direct you to someone who can."

He wandered off to speak with a large dwarf wearing an apron. After a brief conversation, he returned.

"Malak will bring you some food and ale in a moment," he quickly said, before walking away from the table again.

It was not long after the captain's departure that the large cook came over with a platter of food, followed by several assistants who also carried platters with more food, plates, utensils, and pints of ale.

"Hope you do not mind nothin' too fancy. When cookin' for a whole camp you tend to lose delicacy and replace it with quantity. Though with you being on the road I s'pose this would look like a feast. If ya need anythin' just give us a holler and either I or one of me assistants will 'elp you."

"Thank you," said Thorin.

Malik gave a bow then went back to work leaving them to serve themselves.

The company began to eat in silence, occasionally sneaking a glimpse over to the other tables where the inhabitants of the camp were conversing with each other. It was a foreign sight for all of them to see. Elves, men, and dwarves sitting and enjoying each others company.

Fili and Kili watched a table nearby. An arm wrestling match was going on between the tables occupants. A loud roar erupted as a dwarrowdam slammed down the arm of a larger looking man. Each contestant shook hands and offered a wide smile as small exchanges of coin were passed around them.

Fili felt a nudge in his side and looked to Ori who was sitting to his left. Ori pointed in front of them over Nori's and Dori's heads who where seated across from them.

"Look who it is," he whispered quietly before turning to catch Kili's attention and pointing out his discovery.

Fili searched for what Ori was pointing at and found it when his eyes fell upon Thyra who was walking towards the mess tent. Her hair was sagging from the loosened band that usually held it up. Several large pieces of hair had fallen free of its restraints and framed face which was tinted red with exertion. It looked as if she had just finished rolling around in the dirt as her clothes and skin were covered in dirt and grime. Next to her was Sigurd who was walking beside her, looking in the same disarray.

They each walked briskly as they spoke with one another, both of them too wrapped up in their conversation to pay attention to their surroundings. They would not have even looked their way had Kili not caught sight and suddenly burst from his seat, calling wildly out to them.

"Sigurd! Thyra!" He shouted waving his hands wildly.

In Fili's opinion, it made him look like an idiot, but he was an idiot Fili loved unconditionally.

Kili's loud shout cause both girls to look around until they spotted him. With wide eyes, they stared at him.

Sigurd recovered first and altered their route. As they approached, Sigurd smiled widely at the tables occupants while Thyra seemed to sulkily follow her.

"So you guys are part of the guild?" Kili asked as they came to a stop at the end of the table. "Why did you not tell us?"

A guilty look flashed across Sigurd's face.

"Sorry," she began quietly. "It's just that–"

"She's bound by oath," cut in Thyra. "And not obligated to tell you anything."

She moved her attention to Sigurd.

"Don't apologize when you have done nothing wrong," she growled. "Its makes your other apologies meaningless."

Sigurd nodded looking very much like a chastised child despite her seniority of age above the other girl. Seeing Sigurd being cowed so easily, brought an annoyance to Fili. His brother had just been asking a question and Sigurd should not be spoken down to. Too many times he had seen his own brothers confidence attacked by other, more dominant characters like Thyra. He had spent his life defending his brother and he had no hesitation coming to the aid of the sweet hearted dwarrowmaid as well.

"You should not talk to her like that. Nor should you speak to my brother in such a way. Kili was just inquiring," Fili growled to Thyra. "He was just curious. How was he supposed to know?"

Thyra only rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath in Régán. While he did not understand the words, her tone was enough to tell him that her words were not ones of praise.

"It would do you well to show respect those who are your elders," Fili added.

Her mouth curled into a sneer but before she opened it to spit out her own words, Kili quickly interfered. While he had meant no offense nor meant to sound demanding, it seemed Thyra took his words differently.

"You are right." He looked to Sigurd. "I am sorry, Thyra was right, I should not have assumed you would just tell us anything," he looked back to Thyra. "I understand we are just barely acquainted and trust should not be placed so easily." A warm grin began to spread across his face at this. "But that just means we need to spend more time together!" He pointed to the empty space next to Dori and across from him. "Please, join us and we can get better acquainted."

Fili watched as Sigurd brightened and immediately moved forward to take a seat. There was a slight, second guessing of her actions when Thyra did not follow suit but Fili watched the determination in her eyes as she pushed through her anxiety. When she had settled, Fili looked up to the still standing dwarrowmaid.

Thyra looked like she would rather sit with a pack of starving wolves than with them. But after a few hesitant moments of internal debating, she finally settled into the tight space remaining. Sigurd seemed to relax more as Thyra sat sandwiched between herself and Bofur.

"Rumor around camp is that you ran into the great goblin himself." Sigurd announced to Kili.

Kili nodded.

"Aye. We got caught up in a storm and when the stone giants began their fighting. It forced us to take refuge inside of a cave. But it turned out that cave was the front door into the goblin den."

Sigurd's eyebrows raised.

"Goodness. You were quite unlucky in your passing through the mountains."

" _ **Heimskur munni öndun mun ekki hlusta**_ ," mumbled Thyra under her breath as she sat with her head bowed and adjusted the sleeve of her shirt.

Fili glanced at her.

"What was that?"

"She said how unfortunate," Sigurd quickly translated.

It was the translation was an altered version. Fili may not have had a knowledge of the language, but he certainly knew her sentence was not that simple nor polite. The lack of sympathy she had possessed in her voice told him that much.

He looked at Thyra again with accusing eyes. Thyra moved her own eyes slowly to meet his. Fili raised his brow expectantly, waiting for her to confirm Sigurd's translation.

"You should have listened," Thyra said sternly. "Bad luck was coming."

Fili let out a scoff.

"It was a coincidence, like one day would have made a difference? It rained the entire way passing through the mountains."

Thyra shrugged.

"Not for us."

This made Fili scowl in disbelief and Sigurd was quick to diffuse the situation.

"Maybe it's because we traveled faster and just barely missed the storm. I am sure it was right behind us."

Fili's face faintly slackened and he sat back, looking a little more relaxed. Sigurd was just about to pat herself on the back when Thyra opened her mouth again. Knowing that whatever was about to escape her friends mouth would destroy the little peace she created, Sigurd quickly stood, dragging Thyra up with her.

"Sorry but we should probably get going, we have duties to attend to."

The two princes watched the girls make a quick departure. Or at least Sigurd attempted to make a quick departure as she failed to drag Thyra long with her.

Despite Sigurd tugging at her arm as well as her advantage in height, Thyra took smooth methodical steps as she firmly kept her own pace undisturbed from her friends persistence.

Not long after the abrupt departure of the two women, a man approached the table. He immediately looked to Thorin when he addressed them.

"Our commander has made a decision," he said. "Asha has asked that you return to the central tent where she will give you her answer."

Fili immediately looked to Thorin who swallowed thickly then nodded.

It was an oddity to see his uncle look so nervous and he was certain that it was not because of anticipation of her answer. It was because of Asha. Asha made his uncle uneasy. He had not noticed it immediately at first but just recently he had become aware of the effect Asha had on him. Now when he looked back to the two previous encounters that involved Asha, he recalled the same uneasiness had been there as well.

It made his curiosity surge in want to know the history between the woman and his uncle.

* * *

"I offer you a wager." She said.

"You mean gamble?" Asked Thorin. "You would leave the fate of Erebor to chance?"

Asha shrugged, her facade the perfect image of indifference.

"Why not? If I recall we once made a wager before. Given your determination then, I would have thought you would have jumped at such a chance again."

She looked down at her lap and brushed off some invisible dirt. Then her eyes shot up to him, challenging him.

"But then again maybe you only gamble on things that matter nothing to you."

Thorin's face darkened. He clenched his teeth and met her accusing eyes. He was sick of her taunting him and acting as if he had never cared. Did she truly believe that he had not suffered heart ache? That he never truly cared? That he did not regret nearly every day since those long ago days?

"What shall it be then? Toss some dice? Guess a number? Throw some stones," he spat the last suggestion in a mocking tone, doing his best to mirror her own attitude of contempt.

Two could play at this game of committing sacrilege to some of his most cherished memories.

Asha gave a cynical smile that stopped at her lips, not meeting her eyes.

"No, not dice. A dual. Your best fighter against one of mine. If you lose, you leave without my help. If you win, I will give you provisions to get through your journey and when the time comes, we will fight for you. But you must also allow any of my men who wish to join Erebor into the kingdom as equal citizens."

Hushed whispers spread like a wave through the refilled tent. Thorin did not need to think, at least this way he could have a chance.

"I accept."

Asha nodded.

"Who will fight for you?"

Thorin looked to Dwalin who nodded his head. As much as he wanted to fight himself, he knew Dwalin was still better in duals.

"Dwalin," he said looking back to Asha. "Who will be yours?"

He eyed a large dwarf standing near the dais. He had seen many a warrior just like this one within the camp and he was curious as to if she had a certain warrior in mind or if she would just choose one at random.

"Habard," Asha said, looking at the captain.

Thorin felt slightly nervous when she heard him call his name. Habard was large and given his status among the camp, he was most likely not just a skilled warrior, but a smart one. It would certainly be a closely matched duel.

Just as Thorin began to weigh the odds of success, Asha spoke again and at her next sentence, Thorin felt completely befuddled.

"Will you please fetch Thyra, it seems she is needed," she requested, looking at Thorin.

Dwalin let out a laugh as well as several others in the company, even Thorin smiled slightly.

Asha looked at Dwalin.

"Does something amuse you?"

Dwalin looked to her.

"No offense but I thought you wanted to win this match," he said. "Seems to me it's a bit of an unfairly matched dual."

Asha smiled.

"Your right, it is not," she agreed. Then added, "but hopefully Mahal will be on your side and will bless you with luck."

Some heavy footsteps sounded as Habard returned causing any rebuttal to interrupted. Thyra followed behind him, accompanied by Sigurd. She looked inquisitively at the company as she passed by, her eyes scanning each member, pausing longer on Fili. Her eyes darkened slightly but then moved on as she walked to the front where Asha sat.

"Thyra, we have come to a decision on how to determine if we help this company or not. A duel between you and Dwalin will decide it."

Fili watched Thyra as she looked at, or in better terms, looked up to Dwalin who towered over her. He was easily a head and a half taller than her, perhaps nearly two heads. And his body was three times her own small frame. She was a muscular girl but when compared to Dwalin she looked frail. However, despite their contrast, she seemed unphased when she looked up at him.

She gave a single nod to Asha after a short moment who looked out across the crowd when Thyra gave her agreement.

"The dual will take place tomorrow at mid morning. That will give each competitor a chance to fully rest for a night," she looked to Thorin. "You and your men will be given a place to stay, you already know where you can find your meals."

With her final words, she stood up and departed. The rest of the occupants of the tent began departing as well now that the meeting was adjourned.

The air buzzed with excitement as those filing out of the tent began to discuss the upcoming dual and began to already make wagers. It seemed the fact that they all might possibly be marching to Erebor within the next few days was out shined by the show that would commence.

* * *

They were given the infirmary as a place to rest. It was that, or split up into individual tents as the infirmary was the only place large enough to accommodate their numbers. It was luck that the majority of its beds were vacant of any patients except for one man who was ill with fever.

Thorin was not entirely untrusting of Asha. He did not think they were in any danger, but it did not mean he would blindly let his guard down. He had to remind himself that Asha was not the same person he once knew.

So he went against his natural instinct and took up some precautions. Sticking together was one of them.

When they arrived, Thorin was relieved to see what remained of their supplies and all their weapons had been returned to them as well. Not only just returned but freshly cleaned and sharpened before laid neatly on the cots provided for them.

He wondered if this had been done under Asha's order or someone who was just bored. The later assumption came to him when he discovered that Sigurd and Thyra resided within the infirmary tent as well.

With Sigurd acting as the camps main healer and limited shelters, they took there quarters there. A small curtain on the far end of the rectangular tent gave a small space of privacy for the two girls and a place to keep their own cots and personal belongings.

After such a long day, the company was gathering for an early nights rest when the two girls appeared and explained their situation. Sigurd had gone immediately to the side of the single patient and began going through a routine of checking his forehead, helping him drink some water, then helping him eat a few mouthfuls of broth.

Thyra on the other hand, had gone straight to her cot. It was then that Thorin noticed the wet stone and polishing cloth laid out on her bed. He smiled faintly at the sight as he readjusted his thinking that Asha had instructed their weapons to be cleaned.

As the members of his group settled into their beds and Thyra waited for Sigurd to finish checking on her patient before preparing for sleep, Thorin watched the small Régínn girl closely.

He could not fathom why Asha would choose her, of all the able bodied soldiers within this camp, to go against Dwalin in the duel tomorrow. Yes she certainly was a fighter but there came a point that skill was overpowered by size. It was true she had done well against the trolls. But trolls where stupid creatures to begin with.

Dwalin, despite what some would say, was quite intelligent. At least when it came to warfare and fighting strategy he was. For Asha to be a Brimir she would know this. As a Brimir it was expected to be well trained it strategy and tactics.

He was unable to ponder much further as weariness took over his thoughts. When Sigurd moved away from her patient and pulled the curtain closed to give herself and Thyra privacy, Thorin let his wonderment go. He would get his answer tomorrow when the duel took place.

* * *

Fili stared up at the canopy that was suspended above him as his mind wandered to his deepest thoughts. He had awaken what felt like hours ago and had yet to fall back asleep.

There was no telling whether it was still night or early morning but given the darkness of the exterior of the tent, he could only guess it was still night. Had they been anywhere else but the encampment, Thorin would have had a watch going throughout the night. But given the security of the guild and his hesitated miniscule trust he had put into Asha, Thorin had decided to forgo it and let the company rest through the night. Unfortunately, Fili's body did not have the same idea and he had awoken at the allotted time he would usually wake for his shift.

Fili crushed his eyelids closed again and tried to coax his mind to sleep. Taking in a deep breath, he slowly released it as he concentrated all thought on relaxing his body. The attempt of meditation only worked for a moment before almost instantly his mind and ears were invaded by the noises of the night.

Bombur's bear like snore seemed to rattle his very bones with vibrations as Kili's constant restless legs moved about in his sleep. Two deep voices in a low conversation slowly came and went as a pair of members of the guild walked by the tent. Their silhouettes danced across the tent canvas as they walked past a small campfire that was lit just outside.

He let out another breath, this time more quickly as the irritation of his restlessness got to him. After another try and failure to relax, he quickly sat up and glared around the tent.

Bodies laid out in rows, all deep in sleep with a few occasionally turning over or letting out a light cough or snore. Their had been just enough empty cots in the tent for all of them.

It was this small fact that made Fili pause in his scan around the tent when his eyes fell onto an empty bed at the far end of the tent where Sigurd and Thyra had been sleeping. The bed was only visible because the curtain that had been pulled closed earlier when he had first fallen asleep was open.

Sigurd lay peacefully on her side.

She stirred slightly as she rolled over but quickly settled into a calm stillness. As she settled, Fili's eyes moved back to the empty cot. Then he continued to finish his survey of the tent.

With each lingering moment he sat up, the more he felt alert. By the time his eyes swept back to his brother, he knew that there would be no point in trying to lay down again. He was fully awake now.

As quietly as he could, so as to not disturb those lucky enough to still be sleeping, he shifted himself to sit sideways on his bed. He rubbed the remnants of sleep from his eyes before beginning to pull on his boots.

Pulling the tent flap open, he was surprised to see the night sky was a deep navy as the beginning of dawn approached to announce the start of a new day. His hand ran through his hair as he took in a breath of the cool crisp air. He was impressed with the efficiency of the tent in keeping in the warmth inside and his mind wandered to the coat he had left beside his bed. Just as he was about to turn back and retrieve it, he remembered the fire that had been outside the tent and looked in its direction.

Someone was already sitting down next to it. The small form and blonde hair gave away her identity immediately.

Thyra sat on the ground with her back leaned against a small pile of firewood. Her head was bowed as she leaned over a book propped against her knees. At first he hesitated to move, not wanting to be near her, but as a small breeze carrying a cold chill passed by, he shivered. It was uncomfortable enough that he found the displeasure of her company not as unappealing that the discomfort of the cold. With that, he managed to move his feet towards the fire.

As he approached she looked up from her book and he realized that she had a piece of charcoal in her hand. Expecting her to glare at him and possibly send a biting remark, he felt the skin on the back of his neck already preparing to bristle. But she did the opposite and looked back down to her book without any word.

Automatically he felt himself bristle at being ignored. He knew he should not care but her ignoring him seemed to be worse than speaking to him. It was rude to not acknowledge a person.

It was obvious she did not care about his presence, so to spite her, he took a seat on the ground across from her. Her head remained bowed, but Fili caught sight of her dark eyes look in his direction from beneath the veil of her thick lashes. His mouth curled slightly in triumph as he noticed her grip the charcoal more firmly and her lips twitch in visible annoyance. They were subtle and he nearly missed them, but they were there.

He smiled, content in being successful in his attempt to get under her skin for once.

They sat silently with nothing but the occasional crackle of embers from the fire, a chirp of a cricket, and the sound of charcoal being dragged across parchment. Fili watched the flames flicker and dance as he occasionally glanced in the direction of Thyra.

She continued to ignore him and his earlier satisfaction quickly dissipated with each passing moment that she continued to blatantly fail to acknowledge him. His brows merged together as he unconsciously scowled at the girl seated across from him.

"From me, you want?"

Fili startled slightly at the sound of her voice. She had not looked up as she continued to draw and had assumed she did not know he had been looking at her. Once recovered, he processed what she had spoken, trying his best to decipher past the thick accent and poor wording.

"What?"

She looked up when he asked for clarification, a small twinge in her cheek as she clenched her jaw. A sign of frustration.

"You keep staring," she said slowly and consciously. "What youーwhat _**do**_ you want?" She quickly corrected, putting emphasis on her earlier mistake.

He contemplated on what to say. All he really wanted was for her to acknowledge him like any other civilized person would do. But now that he had her attention, he found himself with being annoyed by having to bother speaking with her. It was childish and unlike him, but maybe that is why he disliked her. She made brought out actions and thoughts he did not normally express.

However, despite this, a question managed to pop into his mind as he thought.

"Why are you not sleeping?" He finally asked.

She looked at him for a long moment without saying a word. The longer she stayed silent the more he began to think she did not understand his question. So he decided to take a page out of Kili's book.

He pointed up to the night sky..

"Its night time. Why are you not sleeping?"

He placed his hands together and mimicked sleeping. When he opened his eyes he saw her staring at him as if he were insane. A wave of foolishness washed over him and he shook his head.

"Forget it."

He said with frustration.

Thyra frowned and moved her attention back to the book as Fili went back to watching the fire.

"I have... _ **martraðir**_."

Fili jerked his head up and looked at Thyra. She was looking at him with an undecided expression. As if questioning herself as to why she was giving him and answer.

" _ **Martraðir?**_ " he parroted with confusion.

She paused as if trying to find the right word that Fili could understand.

"I see pictures." She pointed to her head. "Here."

Fili's eyes narrowed as he tried to understand what she was trying to say. Then it dawned on him.

"Dreams?" he suggested.

Thyra contemplated the word not looking completely satisfied.

"Not happy. Dark."

"Oh," he said, slightly more enthusiastic as he seemed to forget who he was speaking with. "Those are nightmares," Fili supplied.

Her face tilted at the word.

"Nightmares," she repeated, trying out the word.

It was badly pronounced and she tried it on her tongue a few more times until even her accent could be hardly noticed.

For the first time, Fili felt sorry for her. The reality of her situation dawned on him. To be stuck in a world that she could hardly understand and nothing of familiarity. From the facts he knew, she certainly was not old enough to have ever been with any of the groups that ventured in these parts before. And recalling Sigurd's story of how they came to find her, he began to wonder what those people who had perished had been to her.

Had her family been on that ship? Did she witness the slaughter or did she become unconscious only to wake up to the news of her dead kin? With those thoughts, It was no wonder she was having nightmares. He looked at her with this new adjustment in his mind.

"Why not you?" she asked in a curious tone.

Fili looked at her closely trying to understand what she was referring to. She mimicked his gesture of pointing to the sky then laying her head to the side with her eyes closed. When she opened up her eyes, she looked at him expectantly. Her dark eyes fixed on his.

Fili fought the smile that tried to arise at her method of mimicking his earlier gesture. It truly did look ridiculous.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"My mind is too busy."

She kept her eyes fixed on him and he realized she was waiting for more of an explanation.

"I can't stop thinking about our quest. About what will happen."

She nodded. She closed her book and used her arms to pivot herself to face him more directly. Onyx orbs looked at him thoughtfully and he felt himself become uncomfortable under her gaze.

"You fear what will happen if your quest is successful."

It was not a question. Fili stared at her awe of just how close she was to the truth but then he quickly narrowed his eyes.

"No I donー..."

"You are the heir to your uncle. All your life you have known you will take the title. But the title is not the same thing as a throne," she said cutting him off. "You fear that you will actually have to live up to what is expected of you."

Fili stiffened. He did not like the way she was declaring how HE was feeling.

Admittedly she was correct in her assessment but he refused to accept that fact. Confessing that she was right would be unacceptable. She did not know him well enough to know such things.

"I am not afraid," he growled. "I am more than ready to take upon the leadership of my people. I was born for it. It is my right."

Thyra quirked an eyebrow. "It is no one's right to take a throne," she replied lazily. "It is a privilege bestowed upon a soul. And it is a privilege that can be taken just as easily."

Slowly she got to her feet, her hand grasping a log from the pile she had been leaning against and walked to the dying fire. She tossed the log in, sending a burst of sparks of orange and red into the air. Dark eyes stared down at the small flames as they began to consume the new fuel.

"Anyone can be a monarch," she said sagely as her eyes continued to stare into the flames. "Some were destined, while others make it their destiny. Those who sacrifice are the good ones. They are not the selfish ones."

"I am not selfish," Fili defended, his anger masking the insecure fear he had always harbored beneath the surface of his facade of confidence.

That fear being that he was never worthy.

Fili always knew his circumstances would have been much different had Erebor not fallen and had his uncle not always been reluctant in seeking out a mate. He was only heir because Thorin had no son. Because of that, he had always felt as though he were never the rightful heir.

"I will do everything in my power to be the perfect ruler. I will do everything that is asked of me...even if it means giving up my deepest wishes."

She tilted her head then shrugged. Her nonchalant attitude only made him more defensive. It was obvious she was not going to push the subject but her lack of showing belief in his words provoked him.

"You do not think I will be a good king?" He accused.

Thyra looked down at him, she took a few steps forward and stopped only a pace away.

"No," she said in a bored tone, causing Fili to look at her with disbelief.

He opened his mouth, getting ready to rise to his own feet but was stopped when she reached out a hand and patted him on the head. Once, twice, and then she spoke.

"Do not worry _**Feelig**_ ," she said in mock comfort. "You are not King...not yet."

He was left speechless and annoyed. As he listened to her footsteps begin to fade as he stared at the now empty space she had occupied earlier. His skin prickled at the top of his head where she had patted him. Patted him like he was some little child or untrained puppy. Anger grew and he managed to whip around and glare at her retreating back.

"It's FILI!" he hissed as loudly as he dared at such an early hour.

Whether she heard him or not, she made no acknowledgement. She merely continued towards the tent where she disappeared behind the flap.

Fili stayed out until the sky had lightened to a deep purple and it was then that he decided to return to his bed and try to sleep again. As he entered, he could not help but glance towards the end of the tent where Thyra's and Sigurd's cots lay. The curtain had been shifted again but he could still see past it where it was slightly askew to reveal a single empty cot.

Thyra was gone.

Again he felt a perturbed feeling swell within his stomach at the fact that she had somehow exited the tent only a few yards away without his knowledge.

…..


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Fourth Encounter Part III

As Fili ate, he kept a close observance on the other tables around him as he watched the early risers of the guild break their fasts. For the most part, most of them were all still half asleep as they hurriedly ate their gruel and moved on to begin their daily tasks. The table next to him was the most distracting. It was filled with a group of unruly men, all of them talking loudly and laughing with one another while occasionally rough housing over the table as they tossed pieces of food at one another.

He was so distracted by the commotion of the neighboring table, that he failed to notice anyone approach him. So when a plate was dropped loudly on the table at the seat across from him, Fili jumped at the sudden sound and looked up to see who was joining his company.

To his surprise it was Thyra who was sliding onto the bench across from him. He stared at her in utter disbelief as she settled down without a word and began to eat. After she swallowed her first mouthful she looked up at him, her usual displeased frown adorning her face as she scrutinized him.

"What?" she asked sharply.

Fili looked around. There were several open seats among the tables that made up the mess ten. Of all the choices she had, why did she choose to sit here?

"Why are you sitting with me?"

She stared at him for a long pause as if she too where unsure of how to answer him. She shrugged.

"You were sitting alone," she said plainly before going back to her eating.

"Yes, but..."

She looked back up at him, annoyance clearly written across her face.

"My sitting next to you was not an invitation to openly converse."

Fili stared at her in confusion. If she did not want to talk then why did she sit by him.

"Then why did you sit here if you did not wish to speak with me?" he persisted, ignoring her earlier declaration of not wanting to speak.

 _Why was he arguing this?_ He asked himself. It was not like he wanted to speak to her. Not when everything that fell from her mouth was an insult.

She let her spoon fall down to her plate and looked up at him, impatience shining in her eyes.

"It is rude to let a fellow man eat alone, it brings bad fortune to not break bread with another."

"Since when did you start to care about my good fortune?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Bad fortune for ME" she emphasized. "I care nothing for you."

Without another word she continued eating her food.

Fili was at a loss for words. He could not understand this woman before him. She was inconsistent and foreign, two things he neither liked nor trusted. He watched her as she ate, noting the flash of dark irises each time she checked to see if he was still looking at her.

Most people would look away after being caught the first time, but Fili did not care if he was being rude. At least not to her. He had never met anyone who could do something polite and be rude about it at the same time.

He thought about what she had said earlier. She had said it brought bad fortune to let someone eat alone. Never in his life had he heard that before and he was curious about the history of her strange superstitions.

"Where did you—"

He was cut off as she let out a groan of annoyance. She glared up at him then quickly stood and walked away to throw away her half eaten breakfast before returning her bowl to the kitchen hands. He watched her give him one more glance, her frown deepening as she noticed he was still watching her. It did not last long as she disappeared behind a crowd of dwarves making their way to breakfast.

* * *

Sigurd and Kili walked together towards the mess tent when they saw Thyra storming away from it. Sigurd tried to hail her but Thyra only gave her an offhanded wave before continuing on to an unknown destination.

"Am I to assume she is not a morning person?" Kili commented hesitantly.

He meant it as a joke but all the same, Thyra did not seem like a morning, day, evening, or night person. Sigurd gave a slight chuckle understanding his meaning.

"No, she is not, yet she still gets up at the crack of dawn nearly every day. But that was still unusual behavior even for her. There was definitely something that caused her to be extra irksome this morning," she answered as she looked ahead at the mess tent.

As she caught sight of an annoyed looking Fili left in Thyra's wake, things began to slide into place.

"And I think I may have found the source," she added as she pointed to Fili. "I should probably go see what happened."

Kili could see the urgency of her want to settle the mystery of Thyra's foul mood. Although he still knew very little of either of them, Kili could tell their bond went deeper than let on. It was a strange friendship that the two maidens shared. Sigurd was the sweetest person he had ever met and Thyra was about as sweet as a lemon. He knew it took a special kinship to allow such opposites to gravitate into a friendship, strange as it was.

"You go ahead," Kili encouraged, "I will grab us some breakfast if you want to head over to him now."

She smiled at his kind offer.

"Thank you. That would be wonderful."

As he departed from her side and she turned to face Fili sitting grumpily at the table ahead. The intimidation of approaching him sent the familiar tremors within her body to come rushing back.

Slowly, she took in a deep, calming breath and willed the trembling to stop before taking a step, then another. There were far and few people Sigurd felt completely at ease with. It was an ailment that had followed her nearly all her life. And she had always hated it.

She liked people. She liked talking with others and enjoying their company. But she had always struggled with her insecurities ever since that day.

Her earliest childhood memories were full of her bounding around the encampment, greeting anyone and everyone. But it all changed nearly seventy years ago. Since then it had always been the same when she was meeting new people. Her heart would excel, her body would shake, and her voice would stutter. Ever since it would take years of consistent exposure to a person before she could truly be at ease and communicate easily with them.

That is until Thyra showed up.

The Régίnn was not exactly what Sigurd aspired to be. But she had characteristics that Sigurd coveted. She was calm and collected with her speech. Even when she struggled with the language she still gave off an eased confidence that went unperturbed by other people's thoughts. She said what she thought without consequence, never regretting her words.

While Sigurd never wanted to be brash like Thyra, she did still want to be able to voice what she thought without being afraid of someone disagreeing. Upon her first interaction with Thyra, Sigurd was still a stuttering knotted ball of anxiety whenever she met with new people.

Now, it was nearly invisible to others.

It was all thanks to Thyra for teaching her how to find the ability to suppress such handicaps. Although perhaps ' _teaching'_ was not exactly the correct term for Thyra's method. Despite the improvement, she still always had a small dosage constantly coursing through her veins with the exception of only a handful of people.

Oddly enough, Kili fell within that group. In fact, now that she thought about it, she could not recall a time she ever felt the familiar anxiety when she was alone with him. Only did it make itself known around him when they were among others of his traveling companions.

As Sigurd sat down across from Fili and gave him a warm smile and greeting. She received the same actions from the golden prince but his was offered with strained effort.

She looked out across the mess tent to find Kili happily walking towards her with two bowls of food. As he settled in next to her and slid her bowl to rest in front of her on the table, the underlying anxiety that had arisen while alone with Fili dulled then faded completely.

It surprised her, the only other person whose presence managed to quell her anxiety around others was Thyra. Even Asha could never fully still the restless unease that lay beneath her skin when with those she had yet to fully acclimate to.

Kili immediately began to eat his food as he prodded his brother for information of earlier events that caused Thyra's foul mood. When he failed to get a full answer from his brother he turned to face Sigurd, a warmth came to his face upon seeing her watching him with an odd expression.

He gave her a wide smile as he tried to ignore the nervous churning in his stomach.

In an attempt to distract her from catching any signs of his nerves, he gently nudge her bowl that she had seemingly forgotten.

"Eat up before it gets cold," he encouraged.

Sigurd blinked suddenly having been unaware of her starring. A tint of color came to her cheeks as she realized that she had not even asked Fili about Thyra's mood. She had been too distracted by her observation of Kili. Immediately, she began to take quick, small bites of her food in an effort to compose herself. But she was stopped when Fili spoke up.

"Why did Asha choose Thyra?"

Kili who had also looked to his brother when he spoke, returned his attention to her. He too had been curious about such things. Sigurd looked between the two then finally, after much deliberation, set her utensil down and took in a breath.

"To be honest, it surprised me as well. We have many who are amiable fighters who would be better matched against Dwalin. Not that Thyra is an incapable fighter, but the disadvantage is obvious...or at least the appearance of it is." At this comment she received two confused looks. So she continued. "I know this fight is all a wager, a game of chance. If you lose, we do not help. If you win, we help. But there is a reason why Asha chose Thyra. It is because whatever Asha wants the outcome to be, Thyra will do everything to see that it happens. Asha's wishes, are Thyra's command. This is not a game of chance. It is only a show. The outcome will be whatever Asha wishes."

Their expressions were still full of their earlier confusion, Fíli's containing a slight bit of skepticism mixed in.

Sigurd sagged slightly, she knew that they would not understand without further information. Unfortunately, that information was about Thyra and Thyra was a very private person. She wanted to respect her friend but again, maybe it would not be too intrusive if she just gave a little.

With this in mind, she explained further.

"I know you two are not fully familiar with the Régínn and to fully understand what I mean, there is something you must know about their culture. Their oaths and their words are taken very seriously. To break a promise is a serious offense. Those who break their word are heavily ostracized within the Régínn. That being said, they have what is called a life debt. An oath given by an Régínn to someone else. The oath binds them to do that persons bidding for however many years they swear. No matter what, that Régínn must fulfill what is asked, otherwise they will take their own life for breaking their oath."

"And Thyra swore a life debt to Asha?" Kili asked.

Sigurd nodded.

"For how long?"

"Fifteen years," Sigurd answered. "She is nearly halfway finished."

"I still don't understand how Asha is guaranteed whatever she wishes," Fili stated, bringing both Kili's and Sigurd's attention to him. "While determination is all good and well, I still do not see how Thyra could so easily win or lose."

Sigurd smiled faintly.

"I believe you underestimate Thyra's fortitude. I have no doubt that Thyra will win or lose depending on what Asha commands. Her life would depend on it if Asha told her specifically which outcome to have." She looked around at them. "Don't worry though. Your company still has hope. Asha only instructed Thyra to fight, not win, and I have yet to ever see Asha abuse the life debt that Thyra owes her. At this point, the match truly is in the hands of the Valar."

* * *

Thorin had expected to get stopped when he approached the gate that led from the compound, but whether it was by Asha's order, or the guard simply did not care, he soon found himself wandering through the woods. It was still early morning but he wanted some time to himself to think before surrounding himself at breakfast with the others. He did not wander too far from the compound as he had no weapons and the area around him was uncharted for enemies. So after five minutes, he found himself sitting on a dry patch of gravel, listening to the sound of the babbling brook a few paces away.

He sat meditatively with his eyes closed and face tilted up to the sky. The soothing trickle of water cleared his mind of all the worries that had kept him up the entire night.

His mind had been clear for only a few minutes when his peace was disturbed by the sloshing of boots treading through water. His eyes snapped open to see Thyra walking through the water towards him. Her eyes where set on him as she gave a silent inquiry to approach.

He gave her a slight nod and she continued her course towards him.

Nestled on her back was the familiar broadsword and in her right hand she held a roped netting. Something twitched within it and his eyes caught a flash of a scaled fish. The corner of Thorin's mouth curled slightly at the sight.

Once within an appropriate proximity, Thyra let the net drop and undid the buckle holding her sword before gently laid it down before squatting next to the fish. From a pouch by her hip she procured a thin fillet knife and went to work cleaning the fish.

Thorin watched with a transfixed fascination to the speed and accuracy of her hands. She scaled, gutted, and rinsed the fish with practiced efficiency. Pausing in her work as she grabbed a second one she looked up at him, contemplated for a moment, then held the fish out to him.

Catching her meaning, Thorin moved himself up and walked over to her. He took the fish from her outstretched hand then squatted down next to her as he accepted the second knife she had pulled from her pouch.

Together they worked in silence. By the time Thorin was finishing his first fish, Thyra was moving on to her fourth.

Thorin watched her from the corner of his eye as he worked. Her dark eyes were set on her work, fully focused and calm. As she finished the fish she was working on she looked up at him before starting on the next. Her hands rested on her knees as she squatted in front of the work still yet to be done.

"You worry?" she asked.

Thorin contemplated his answer. Her question could have been lay to any number of topics and he wondered if she had not specified on purpose. She was giving him an option to choose which worry he would wish to discuss.

"I will feel better when the duel is over and I will know whether or not I will have help," he said.

Thyra nodded with a hum as she let her eyes look over the fish in her hand. She twirled the knife a few times before finally looking up at him again.

"I hope you win," she said after a while.

Thorin finished off the fish he was working on then raised a brow at her.

"You would bet against yourself?"

Thyra looked thoughtful but she did not reply to his question immediately. Instead, she grabbed his finished fish and held out another to him.

"You work slow," she commented as she went back to work on her own.

Thorin smiled but followed her lead. They had worked for a few more minutes when she finally spoke again.

"I would not wish to be the reason you fail," he looked up from his work to see that she had paused in her work again and was looking up at him. "You deserve to claim and be a true King...a good one," she added with a nod.

He could tell her words to be the purest of honesty. He had heard many people tell him such things all his life, but none he felt the full belief more than this girl that could hardly be categorized above a stranger in his book of associations. Yet, despite the unfamiliarity between them, it truly meant a lot.

"Thank you," was all he could think to say.

She nodded then went back to finish the final fish in the pile. As she began gathering the fish and rinsed her hands, Thorin stood with her and handed back the borrowed knife after wiping it off on his pant leg. The action seemed to amuse Thyra but she made no comment as she accepted the blade back. With everything gathered and her sword reclaimed, she began walking away.

Just as Thorin began thinking she would disappear without any word, she halted and turned to face him.

"Do not mistake, I fight my best today," she said firmly. "But I hope the big man fight better."

With that she disappeared and left Thorin alone again to muse over the oddity of the girl.

* * *

An eruption of noise sounded and echoed out from the compound.

Asha walked into the middle of the training field to a round of applause and whistles from the members of the Guild. She held up her hands, calling for silence then began speaking as the noise died down.

"Today a member of our camp and a member of Thorin Oakenshield's company will duel," she said loudly as she slowly turned in a circle to address all those present in equality. "This fight will determine if the Guild of the Lost will aid Thorin in his quest to reclaim Erebor. Should we help them, all members of the Guild are welcome to claim citizenship within the stronghold upon our success."

There was a rush of excited whispers that followed this statement. Asha raised her hand in the air to call for silence again.

"Would the competitors please come forth."

Dwalin was the first to walk forward.

Shouts of encouragement came from all around but the highest density of the cheers came from Asha's right where the company all stood together. With each step, everyone present could hear the force that he carried within himself.

His axe was resting against his shoulder as he sauntered to the middle of the ring where Asha was awaiting him. Just as he closed the majority of the distance, a hush came across the crowd, followed by the rustle and shuffling of feet and bodies as the crowd parted.

Through the opening of the crowd, Thyra made her way towards the arena.

A thick purple tunic with an armored leather gilet fastened around her torso and matching leather armbands around her wrists. Only her sword was carried on her back, her shield left behind. Her eyes had their usual dark rims but on her right eye, starting above her brow to the cheek bone, rested an ashened line. It conveyed a barbaric tone which unsettled Fili as he watched her mutley walk towards the middle of the arena.

As she parted from the crowd and singled herself out by stepping into the official ring, the silence that had settled by her arrival was lost as spectators began to call out. Some wished her well while others jeered and made snide comments about being put into her place.

Judging by the majority of the remarks, Fili was filled with the sense that Thyra had done well to not only gather his own dislike, but nearly half of the camp in which she resided. All of the words voiced went ignored, both the good and the bad, as Thyra continued to walk straight past them, her eyes set for her destination.

As both Thyra and Dwalin came together at the center, they both silently stared at each other as Asha spoke loud enough so those within the first layer of people surrounding could hear.

"Thyra, you are familiar with our ways and rules of the fighting ring all too well, as does the rest of the camp," she said looking to Thyra. "But for the sake of Dwalin and his companions, I will review."

She directed her attention to Dwalin.

"We only really go by one rule, the rest are just what others would call dirty fighting but are perfectly acceptable if that is the way you wish to fight." There was a chorus of laughter from the permanent residents of the camp. "Our one rule, is that there be no lethal or potentially lethal injuries. Other than that, you are free to do whatever. You may choose whatever weapon or method of fighting you wish. The winner will be determined in a few ways. Forfeit from an opponent, knocking an opponent unconscious, or pinning them down so the opponent can no longer fight." She pointed to a brass bell located next to where Thorin stood. "The final way is if someone outside of the arena forfeits for the contestant. Thorin for Dwalin and myself for Thyra. Are we all at an understanding?" she asked, looking to Thyra then Dwalin.

After each of them had nodded their consent, Asha gave a nod of approval.

Dwalin began swinging his arms forwards and backwards while rolling his neck, doing his best to loosen his joints and muscles. Thyra was doing the same, shaking her arms and jumping up and down.

Fili watched as each contestant sized each other up as they prepared themselves. The more he compared them the more he became irritated. What had Asha been thinking when she picked Thyra? Sigurd's earlier conversation did little to aid him in finding this answer as he looked at Dwalin towering over Thyra. Thyra may have had an aggressive appearance, but seeing them next to each other, it looked like one good punch from Dwalin and she would be out cold.

Dwalin looked to the company and whistled.

"Fili, catch."

He said, tossing his large axe in the air.

Fili caught it in the air with one hand and leaned it against the fence.

Dwalin turned to Asha and nodded before again looking to Thyra with a large, confident smirk on his face. Thyra's face twitched as her brow came together but she remained calm and composed. Without a word she withdrew her sword, walked over to Sigurd standing near the fence, and mumbled something in Régan as she rested it against the post. As she came back to the center, Dwalin snorted with a laugh.

"You may want to go back and retrieve that. We want a fair fight."

"Then get the axe," she said with a smile.

Dwalin's smile widened at her spunk but gave her a shrug. He spat on the ground and raised his fists as he got into fighting stance.

"Very well, don't say I warned you runt."

This time Thyra showed no sign of acknowledgement from his insult. Instead she took her own stance, one foot slightly farther back as she left her hands loosely to her side.

"You may begin," Asha said as she quickly retreated to take her place next to Thorin beside the bell.

Dwalin began circling her and Thyra slowly pivoted as she watched him closely. When it became apparent that she would not attack first, Dwalin charged.

With a rare speed and agility, Thyra stepped away and dodged his advance.

Dwalin swiftly turned around, and charged at her again, his heavy footsteps sounding like thunder in a storm as he made his advance. This time, Thyra did not move out of the way.

Instead she bent down, avoiding his arms and rolled into his legs. Dwalin went tumbling down into the dirt as he tripped over her. There was a loud thud as he crashed into the ground and he let out an enraged growl of frustration as he stood back up. His breathing was heavy and fast, not from exhaustion, but from rage.

Thyra used her momentum from rolling into Dwalin's legs to rise to her feet. A crooked smile was on her face as she watched him get back to his feet and brush off a layer of dust.

" _ **Are you sure you do not want your axe?**_ " she said smugly in Régan.

Dwalin glowered at her. He had no idea what she had said but he knew by her tone she was insulting him.

On the sidelines of the dueling ring, Fili was enraptured as the fight commenced.

He thought for sure it would have ended by now from a single punch from Dwalin. But the large dwarf had yet even lay a finger on her. It was obvious that Thyra was used to fighting brawn and she her strategy seemed to be working. Already Dwalin was getting frustrated, which meant his attacks would become less thought out and could easily lead to mistakes. Thyra was smart, there was no doubting that, therefore, Dwalin could not afford to lose his wits.

At the start of the fight, Sigurd had made her way over to where the company spectated. Currently she stood next to himself and his brother and with each narrow miss of Dwalin's fists, Fili heard her take in a deep breath.

As the fight went on and Dwalin had still yet to touch Thyra, he changed his tactics. Instead of charging, he went back to circling.

With each circle he made, he would faint forward as if to charge. But with each faint , Fili noticed he inched slightly closer. It was subtle and Fili had just barely caught it after he gained his third inch. Once he noticed, Fili wondered if Thyra was noticing is slow progression as well.

Dwalin made as if to throw a punch with his left hand but as Thyra's feet moved to dodge the blow he threw a quick jab with his right. Thyra's head flew back as she stumbled backwards several steps, nearly falling to the ground but she managed to regain her balance at the last moment.

Fili was astonished that she was still standing let alone conscious. He had been on the receiving end of Dwalin's fists when training and it was powerful.

Despite this, Thyra recovered quickly from her dazed state but a small trickle of blood began to run from the corner of her mouth. Her hand moved up and wiped at it. Red blood shimmered from her fingers as she rubbed her thumb and pointer together. Her dark eyes observed the crimson liquid before flashing up to Dwalin.

Her face hardened. Another small drip of blood began to form on her lip again just before she sucked her lip then spat out a mouthful of blood onto the ground. Dwalin's eyes followed the wad of spit where it landed in the dry dirt. When his eyes lingered on the spot of blood on the ground, Thyra used this distraction and made her first move of offense.

Moving with speed, she grabbed Dwalin's arm and twisted under it as she moved behind him. Dwalin let out a groan as his arm twisted behind his back. Then another groan followed as Thyra brought her foot up and slammed it into the back of his knee.

Dwalin's leg bent and he lost his balance. With his body lower to the ground, Thyra jumped onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. Dwalin grabbed at her arms as she began cutting off his air way but she only tightened her hold more.

Dwalin stood, taking Thyra up with him as he feet dangled in the air. As soon as he had his feet steady, he began twisting violently in an effort to throw Thyra off of his back. Eventually he bent forward with enough force that Thyra's body was sent over his head and onto the ground. A loud thud sounded as she landed on her back.

Dwalin took in deep breaths as he held his throat and made his way over to her. He moved to kick her but she rolled out the way and his foot landed on the ground where she had been.

They were nearing the fence where Fili was standing with his brother and Sigurd, Fili could see the sweat pouring from both of them and their heavy breaths were easily heard as their open mouths drew in and released air from their lungs.

As Dwalin advanced on Thyra, she backed up until her back was pressed against the fence that lined the perimeter of the arena. Dwalin's mouth curled into a snide sneer as he saw that she was cornered. He walked up to her but as he neared, Thyra pulled herself up on the fence and used the middle rung as a step to bring herself higher. She kicked up with her leg and her foot collided with Dwalin's face.

A sickening crunch of cartilage breaking echoed over the arena and a thick stream of blood poured from Dwalin's nose. His eyes crossed and his hands instinctively went to his face as he grunted. He moved his hand to straighten it back into place causing him to expel another pained noise.

Once recovered he dropped his hands as he sneered at Thyra.

Blood covered his face and ran into his mouth, turning his teeth red. His eyes bulged with rage and even though he was not the one fighting him, Fili could not help but feel a slight fear at the sight of Dwalin.

Yet, Thyra seemed unphased by his appearance as she threw herself at Dwalin and they both fell backwards onto the ground.

Thyra sat on his chest, striking down with her fist with several quick jabs until Dwalin caught her arms and rolled until he was kneeling over her with her arms pinned down. His eyes and nose were already turning purple as he glared down at her. Small droplets of his blood dripped down onto her cheeks but she paid them no mind. She was too preoccupied as she struggled to move her pinned arms.

But there was no budging the larger dwarf.

Dwaling brought his head forward and smashed it against hers. Fili felt himself wince as he watched her head fly back into the ground. Again he thought for sure it would knock her out cold but she was still moving. She shifted her shoulders and twisted. The movement was not much but it was enough to cause Dwalin to fall forward, due to all his weight being supported by his arms.

Thyra managed to roll out from under him and staggered up to retreat several paces back.

She was heavily dazed by the headbutt which seemed to not even have the slightest effect on Dwalin as he stood back up. Thyra's steps where loopy like a drunkard and blood ran down from a large gash on her forehead where Dwalin had managed to split open her skin.

Thyra quickly swiped at the blood that poured from the wound before it could run into her eyes but it was obvious that the blow to her head had done severe damage. She stumbled to her knees and struggled to stand back up only to fall back down. Again she swiped at the blood that was now running into her eyes as she crawled on her hands and knees, shaking her head in an attempt to bring back clarity.

Taking advantage on her dazed state. Dwalin walked steadily up to her as she continued to crawl on her hands and knees. Being oblivious to his close proximity, she was easily taken over as Dwalin roughly flipped her over onto her back.

He kicked down onto her stomach. She let out a wretched sound but rolled away as he moved to send another kick to her side. As she moved her arms to her injured side, Dwalin pounced. His heavy body pinning her legs and arms to her sides as he held her shoulders down. Thyra wriggled around but there seemed to be no escape this time. She moved to bend her neck in an attempt to bite his hand which was firmly planted on her shoulder but Dwalin was watching her too closely now.

One quick jab with his right hand to her face sent her head back to the ground and before she could manage to move again, the same hand found the column of her neck.

It took minimal effort for his large hand to easily block off the passageway of her small throat. Within seconds she was struggling to take in weak, ragged breaths.

* * *

When Asha had awoken that morning, she had told herself she was willing to let fate fall where it may. She had been willing to accept whatever the outcome. Win or lose, she was going to let everything play out as the Valar wished. But as she watched Thyra, wriggling on the ground and gasping for breath, she felt as if it was herself that was being strangled.

The feeling made her begin to breath faster until her chest heaved. She gripped the fence post in front of her and dug her nails into the soft wood. Suddenly she felt panic rise within her chest as a realization hit her. Thyra was going to lose and that frightened her. Not just frightened, it terrified, petrified, stupefied.

The future was written out plainly before her. Thorin was going to win their wager. The Guild was going to help reclaim Erebor. The entire population of the Guild would be in Erebor. Thorin was going to see HIM. Learn of HIM. Her worst nightmare would come true and Thorin's ultimate rejection would take place.

 _That could not happen._

The protest echoed within her mind causing her arms to shake. She had to do something, she had to prevent it from happening. Flashes of her past nightmares that involved Thorin finding out the one truth she had never truly uttered in her life played through her mind. With panic stricken eyes she wrenched her head up from where she had been staring down at her white knuckled hands and focused on Thyra who was now on the verge of blacking out.

"Thyra!" she screamed loudly, her voice retching with desperation. " _ **Ekki tapa! Ekki tapa!**_ " she repeated in Régan. " _ **Do not lose!**_ "

. . . . . . . . . . . . .


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Fourth Encounter Part IV

The sound of Asha's frantic voice caused Fili to pry his eyes away from the struggling Thyra, and look to the scarlet haired guild leader. Asha looked nearly hysterical as she continued to repeat the same line over and over in Régan.

At first Fili assumed Asha was telling the girl to give up but that assumption was quickly rectified as a strangled protest sounded from Sigurd's throat.

Fili looked to his right and saw Sigurd gapping as her head turned back and forth between Thyra and Asha. Over her head he saw his brother doing the same, but his eyes had a lot more worry held within his soft brown irises as he looked at the distressed maiden.

* * *

Kili had been so enthralled with the fight, Asha's first shouts had fallen upon deaf ears. But the moment Sigurd let out a whimper, he instantly turned to her. Sigurd's face was ashen as she gapped soundlessly at Asha in disbelief. He put a hand atop of hers which was gripping the fence post.

"Sigurd, what's wrong?" he asked quickly.

Sigurd's blue eyes blinked then looked up at him.

"Asha told her not to lose!"

Kili instantly knew what that meant but it seemed Fili did not quite process the gravity of that command.

"Thyra will be breaking her oath if she loses," Kili explained.

When Fili did not look as stricken as he should, Sigurd looked at him with worry filled eyes.

"Do you not remember! If she breaks her oath, Thyra must give up her life. It's part of the life debt! This is no longer a matter of if the Guild helps. Thyra's life depends on this match!"

Kili gave her hand a small squeeze of assurance which drew her attention back to the taller brother.

"Then she will win," Kili reassured her. "If she is anything like you say...she will win...she will live."

As her eyes began to flood with unshed tears, he felt his heart pound against his chest as he felt her own hand shift to grasp onto his own more tightly. She gave him a weak smile and nod before looking out across the area where Thyra's struggle was becoming a losing battle. Sigurd kept her hand tightly clasped with his as she watched on.

* * *

The reality of Thyra's situation did not dawn on Fili fully until Sigurd stated it plainly. The moment she looked back to his brother, Fili let his eyes move to the girl being crushed by the large dwarf on top of her.

It was obvious the lack of air was already taking its toll on Thyra as her thought process seemed to not be functioning. Her movements where no longer calculated but frantic and automatic in attempt of survival

Asha called her name once more, this time more loudly, and the familiarity of it seemed to bring a small glimmer of registration within the girl.

Thyra's head flopped to the side and angled awkwardly so that her eyes could look in the direction of Asha's voice. Fili caught a glimpse as her unfocused eyes ran across him as they struggled to process what they were seeing. There was a dimness to them that he caught just before they moved on to finally find Asha.

The moment she found the source calling her name, Thyra stared blankly at Asha as the older woman shouted at her. Her voice going beyond desperation and turning to anger as her tone went from pleading to commanding.

Thyra's eyelids were barely lifted, leaving only half her cloudy iris visible. But as Asha continued to repeat herself, Fili saw something. Her lids lifted just slightly as if her mind seemed to slowly process what was being demanded of her.

Like fog being burned off from the rising sun, the dullness began to be erased from her eyes as their usual dark luster began to return. Slowly they moved to focus on something else, just slightly to the right of Asha and Fili could have sworn he saw something that could be a kin to apology flash in her eyes. But it was gone with a blink as she looked back to Asha.

Thyra's head slowly moved in the slightest of nods. This small gesture seemed to be enough to at least give Asha some ease as her shouts became less and less. For a moment, Fili saw no comfort in this. She was still pinned down and it would be impossible for her to free herself. Already her muscles would be starved for oxygen and weak from fighting against the heavy weight piled on top of her.

But then it happened.

Thyra closed her eyes fully and for a moment she went utterly still. Fili, as well as several others were beginning to question if Dwalin had rendered her unconscious, but before anyone could voice this, her eyes snapped open. Pools of wet tar, shining and brilliant stared out. Like a spark, jumping from a fire onto a field of dry grass in the middle of a long drought, it was an eruption of flame.

Her eyes burned wildly as she suddenly began to push up against the force of Dwalin's heavy body. She lifted her hips just barely enough to free one arm. With lightning speed her hand shot out to Dwalin's that pressed down on her throat.

She grasped firmly around his wrist and slowly but steadily, began to lift his hand up and away from her neck. As his arm moved, so did the rest of his body as he was forced backwards enough that she was able to curl up from the ground.

Dwalin's eyes widened in disbelief and shock.

Taking advantage of this, Thyra wriggled he second arm free and she grabbed at his other arm before he could grab hold of her neck again.

Blood stained teeth clenched as Thyra let out a slow grunt as she pushed with unfathomable strength, her eyes blinked widely as the steady trickle of blood from her forehead began to pour down her face again and blurred her vision. She let out one loud, anguished cry of force and to everyone's shock, shoved Dwalin enough that he fell back so that only her lower legs were pinned.

Kicking frantically, Thyra freed her legs out from under him and quickly rolled away, putting several feet between them. When she distanced herself enough, she fell into a low crouch as her breath came in and out in strained lungfulls. Her arm wiped at the blood that had still yet to clot.

Fili could see the agitation written on her face by the distraction of her sight being impaired. Suddenly she let out an annoyed growl and plunged her hand into the loose ground beneath her. With a fist full of dusty dirt, she brought her hand up to the wound and swiped it across the cut.

Fili heard Sigurd hiss and cringe from the action but the immediate results left him impressed.

Already the bleeding had stopped flooding her eyes as the dirt absorbed the blood and created a temporary scab to stop the flow. Her dark eyes remained pinned on Dwalin as she watched his every move. It was obvious by the expression on his face that Dwalin had thought he had won. Now he stared gapping in disbelief.

Every second it took for Dwalin to recover from the shock of her sudden escape Thyra took advantage in regaining her breath.

Suddenly Dwalin moved and Thyra jolted into action, but her movements were still slightly sluggish when compared to her swiftness at the beginning of the fight. Before she could move to try and roll away, Dwalin grabbed her by the arm and leg and tossed her in the air. She flew several feet until she collided with the fence. A large dust cloud rose around her as she landed and covered her with another layer of dirt.

After a moment, she began to move her legs and pull herself up, using the fence to support her.

"I suggest you stay down girl if you know what's best for you," growled Dwalin as he walked up to her.

She glared at him and pulled herself the rest of the way up. Her chest heaved as she stood, slightly bent over as she held a hand to her side.

Fili wondered if she had a cracked or possibly broken rib. He could already see a large purple bruise forming beneath the layer of caked dirt and mud in the middle of her forehead. There was no telling what her skin looked like beneath her tunic after the beating she had already recieved.

As Dwalin approached her, he wrapped a hand around her throat and lifted her into the air.

Thyra grabbed at his hand but gave up quickly. Instead she changed tactics and pulled her legs up and sent a kick into his throat.

Dwalin immediately dropped Thyra as his hands went to his throat and he bent over into a coughing fit. Again Thyra twisted around to his back and kicked forcefully down on to the back of his knee. His leg gave out and he was quickly brought down to both knees when she struck another swift blow to the other.

While he was still kneeling, Thyra jumped onto his back again, this time wrapping her legs around his torso and locking her feet together. Dwalin let out a choked roar as he tried to throw her off again. He stood and using the same force as last time, he bent forward in an attempt to throw her off. But the result was not the same. With her legs now clamped around his torso she stayed firmly latched on.

His breath became ragged as she wrapped her arms tighter. Dwalin face was bright red. He slowly walked to the large training posts nearby, turned his back to the post and threw himself back. Thyra's back rammed into the post. She let out a grunt of pain but gritted her teeth as she kept her hold. Dwalin repeated the movement, this time with less force as he struggled to breath.

Fili's eyes grew wide with shock as he watched Dwalin's face turn from red to purple. His efforts to break Thyra's grip grew weaker and weaker until he fell to his knees. Dwalin gripped her arms but his muscles were weak from lack of oxygen. Thyra's teeth gritted with effort and strain as Dwalin's ragged breath struggled to fill his lungs.

There was something consuming about her. Her eyes were sharp and every muscles within her constricted and flexed. Fili had never seen such raw power. It was something written in fairy tales and myths. Like a mouse defeating a bear.

Dwalin attempted to ram himself back again but his legs collapsed beneath him. He fell forward, one hand outstretched to catch himself while the other strained to pull at Thyra's arm locked around his neck. Her grip only seemed to get tighter and not long after, his breath was no longer ragged as the airway was completely cut off.

Bloody drool stringed from his mouth and pooled on the dusty ground. It formed into a muddy maroon puddle as he slowly folded forward. His blue face hit first then the rest of the body as he collapsed into a pile of jerky movements and muscle spasms.

* * *

Thorin stared at the scene before him.

They were going to lose. His chance for an army was about to be swept out from under his feet. What seemed like moments ago, he was about to have an army marching with him to Erebor.

Now, it looked as if he would leave the Guild with one less dwarf than when he came. He caught Dwalin's eye and he could see the look of determination but it was obvious it was a lost cause.

He knew Dwalin would not give up and that knowledge gave him appreciation for his dedication. But he would not let his friend suffer anymore.

To his left Asha was frozen. He did not know what had caused her sudden episode of frantic calling but whatever she had said, it had turned the tables of this match.

He had seen the look Thyra had given him. It had been sadness.

Combined with the conversation he had with her earlier that morning, he knew that it was an apology. It was in that moment, he knew they had lost. It was also in that moment, he found out the reason why Asha had chosen Thyra.

Slowly, he reached out and grasped the hanging rope attached to the bell. He hesitated but after one last look at Dwalin's indigo face, he gave it a pull.

The sound that rang out as the clapper hit against the strike point was disturbing. It felt as if he were ringing his own death knell but the light angelic sound that echoed across the arena did not match the somber ambiance.

The instant the bell rang, Thyra froze. Her eyes flashed up to where the bell hung, the faint look of hope in her eyes dimming when she saw that it was Thorin's hand holding the pull rope. Her eyes trailed again to meet Thorin's gaze. The remorse in her eyes touched him and he returned it with his own look of understanding. She nodded a fraction then released her hold on Dwalin, who gave out a deep gasp as his lungs filled with fresh air.

Thorin caught shifting in his peripheral and turned to see Asha looking up at him. Within her face he saw a twisted mixture of conflicted emotions. He noticed that she was keeping her hand firmly on the fence to steady herself as she faced him. Asha took in a deep breath and raised her eyes. The moment her hazel eyes connected with his blue, a veil fell across her face as it became free of any signs of her inner turmoil.

"You can stay as long as you want," she said. "Food and provisions will be provided when you are ready to go on your way."

She turned and began walking away but was stopped when a firm hand wrapped around her forearm. Asha crushed her eyes shut as she took in a breath but she refused to turn around.

"Asha…" Thorin began.

"I have things to do," she said curtly. "So unless you are going to say goodbye...please...let go of my arm."

Her last words were barely audible but Thorin caught them. His hand protested to relinquish its grasp on her silky skin but he mentally sent the command down to his arm and was grateful when his hand obeyed just enough for Asha to slip from his grip. He watched her retreating back disappear swiftly into the crowd that had begun to disperse. The crowd excitedly buzzed with the aftermath of the entertainment they had just witnessed. The occasional distinct jangle of coins being exchanged as gamblers collected their winnings mixed with their excitement. But it was all just muffled noise in his ears as Thorin stood numbly.

* * *

Kíli stood staring in shock after what he had just witnessed. He had heard the bell ring but he had not been able to move his eyes away from the pair of fighting dwarves.

After the bell had sounded, Thyra did not delay in toppling off of Dwalin where she laid sprawled out on the ground breathing heavily. Dwalin had only moved enough to lie on his back as his chest heaved in and out with lungfuls of life sustaining air.

He felt a slight pull on his arm and finally looked away from the pair to see that Sigurd was still clutching his hand as she moved to climb under the fence to enter the arena. Under any other circumstances, Kíli would relish the feeling of her hand in his, but at the moment, he could not feel anything. His hand was numb from all feeling and he could see the tips of his fingers ashen from the lack of blood that Sigurd had pinched off in anticipation of the fight.

When their arms went taught, Sigurd looked up at him and quickly let go as if she too just realized they were still holding hands. A delicate blush colored her face and she abruptly let go as she ducked her head and ran off towards the two prone figures laid out in the fighting ring.

"Come on," Fíli said as he nudged his brother from his wanton staring of the girl. "She will need some help getting those two to the infirmary."

* * *

Thyra let out a hiss and turned her head away as Sigurd dabbed a wet cloth at the wound on her forehead. Sigurd responded with a small huff and grabbed Thyra's chin to force her to face back as she clucked her tongue.

"That was stupid of you," Sigurd said bluntly. "Did you not think about the infection that you could get from rubbing dirt in your wound! Honestly, you do understand the phrase rub some dirt in it is only an expression. It's not meant to be taken so literally. Apparently we need to work on your Westron more because it…."

Kili watched Sigurd treat Thyra from a small distance as he and Fili assisted Oin in helping Dwalin with his wounds. They were sitting in the infirmary and listening to Sigurd lecture Thyra while she sat silently and listened. Or at least pretended to listen.

Kili was not sure how Thyra had managed to muster the energy to finish the fight, but from whatever inner storage she had withdrawn it from, it seemed she had completely drained that source and more.

At the moment, the girl looked as if she would fall asleep sitting up.

When they had first arrived to their sides, both Thyra and Dwalin where sprawled out on the ground. Dwalin was wheezing as his body lay limp from exercertion and while Thyra was breathing heavily and sprawled out as well, hers was a different breathing. It was not one that was rigid or strained as Dwalin was, but instead it was rapid and rushed as if trying to keep up with the adrenaline that coursed through her body. Her dark irises had been consumed by her pupils as she took in each breath. She had easily stood on her own, shoving any help offered to her with unfathomably strong motions where as Dwalin had to be practically dragged all the way to the infirmary tent. It was not until nearly half an hour later that Kili noticed the dissipating energy that was quickly leaving Thyra's body.

Now her shoulders slumped and her eyelids fought desperately to stay only halfway lidded. Given by the vacant expression that was written in her face and eyes, Kili was certain she was not listening to a single word of Sigurd's lecture. He was not sure she even had the ability to even if she wanted.

It was this thought that had caused him to look admiringly at Sigurd. She was a completely different person when she was around Thyra and had forgotten that others were present. But while he noticed that Thyra seemed to bring out a less shy version of the dark haired beauty, he was certain that it was not Thyra that was putting Sigurd at ease, it was here work.

He had noticed it yesterday as well when she had been tending to the sick dwarf that had been released that morning when his fever had broken. She was good at what she did and it was as if her work erased away her usual uneasiness that she carried around her.

Kili had noticed since the beginning that she was shy but it seemed to be more than just shyness. It was an extreme case of insecurity that caused her anxiety. Kili could relate, he had felt that all too well as a child but when comparing to Sigurd, his was a mild case.

As he watched her have a one sided conversation as Thyra ignored her, Kili could not help but want her to be that way with him. He had noticed she was slightly more open around him but she was still often shy and quiet around him. Certainly more relaxed than others but still reserved.

"...I can't believe her," muttered Sigurd as she continued to speak. "She should not have done that. She should not have asked you to do that."

"I swore debt," came Thyra's monotonous tone. "Do not blame her."

From the corner of his eye Kili noticed Thorin's attention become drawn to the two girls. His eyes narrowed as a deep frown developed upon his face.

Suddenly, Thoroin stood.

His actions bringing pause to all activity and drawing attention to himself. Without a word, he abruptly walked purposefully out of the tent, his right hand in his pocket as it habitually handled the contents within.

* * *

Thorin slipped into the tent of his destination and immediately noticed Asha sitting at her desk. Of all the times he wished for even just a glimpse of her in the past years, he could not savor the opportunity as it presented itself. Asha had still yet to notice his presence but there were concerns that Thorin could not wait to address for his selfish desires and the Asha he wanted to look at, was not the one before him at the moment.

"I may not be completely familiar with the Régínn as you, but everyone knows the value of their word. A promise from a Réginn is as valuable as any gold or silver and their life debts...they are beyond the value of the rarest gems," Thorin said casually, but then added in a more somber tone, "I know of the life debt that Thyra swore to you. I am disappointed. I never thought you would ever stoop so low as to put that girls life in jeopardy. If you truly did not want to help, why offer a wager?"

Asha's head finally rose to look at him. Her eyes full of conflicting guilt.

"People change," was her answer as she looked back down to the documents she was writing on. "The woman that you knew died long ago."

She was so focused on ignoring Thorin's suffocating aura that she failed to notice he had come closer. That is until she heard something hard tap against the top of the table. She looked up to see Thorin's hand covering something beneath, from what she could tell, it was a piece of torn parchment. With confused eyes she looked up at him.

"There is nothing wrong with changing," Thorin said softly. "We are all born with flaws that will cause us many regrets. Me more than any. But our younger selves still held good qualities. I was a fool and let myself be poisoned by hatred. But with time I found an antidote." He paused for a moment of thought. "Unfortunately the damage had already been done. So I made it my vow to become a better man, a man worthy of someone he could never have. It is unfortunate that woman I saw today was not even a fraction of the girl I knew."

Asha looked up at him. Her eyes a stormy mix of conflicted emotions. It settled on a hardened look as her brows drew together.

"Why do you care?"

A long pause passed between them as Thorin's eyes darted back and forth as he tried to understand her. Finally he let out a sigh and looked down at the table. He tapped a finger to the piece of paper beneath his hand thoughtfully.

"It is obvious that you think it impossible for us to ever mend things between us. And maybe you are right," he said quietly before looking back up at her. "But for what it is worth, in regards to your comment last night. I have only ever wagered on those things that are truly of any worth to me in this world."

He leaned forward slightly.

"A young water nymph once taught me how hope makes our wants possible. I don't know what your hopes are anymore. But the girl you once were, always knew what to hope for. I am afraid the harsh world we were forced to grow up in took that away from you."

He slid the piece of paper to the middle of the table.

"Perhaps a reminder of what that hope once looked like will give you some peace. Forgiveness seems unimaginable and it is something I do not deserve. But the girl who once harvested hope deserves resurrection." He paused for a moment before adding. "She is something this world needs."

With that he lifted his hand from the table and turned around to exit the tent.

Asha stared down at what had been hidden beneath his palm and what had been the cause of the heavy tap on the table. Sitting upon a folded letter with a broken seal, embossed with a familiar imprint, lay a small irregular river stone.

It had once been rough on its surface but years of constant handling had smoothed and shined its exterior. For anyone else it would look like any other stone but this one was all too familiar to Asha.

As it should be since she was the one who had found it along a lakeside and placed it on a bench to be found by Thorin.

"You kept it?" she said just barely audible for Thorin to hear. "After all these years?"

Thorin paused at the entrance but did not turn around. "They were the only treasures I took with me when fleeing Erebor. They were the only things of worth to me."

Asha's wide eyes flashed up to the tent's opening but Thorin was already gone. She looked down at the worn letter and gently unfolded it.

The paper was worn thin and torn in the places it had been folded and unfolded countless times. It was barely held together in one piece by the small fibers that still remained intact to keep it from becoming three separate pieces where it had been folded into thirds.

The ink of the scrawled writing was also worn and faded. Water prints had caused some spots to bloch, leaving some words hardly even legible. But having been the one who had composed the letter, Asha had no trouble making out every words meaning.

As her hazel eyes ran over the final sentence, a single salty drop fell from her eyes, then another. Each of them adding another blotchy spot to join the many other spots that had been caused by another person's many tears over countless years.

* * *

Thorin's return to the infirmary was just as quick as his departure. He could have sworn he had spent much longer speaking with Asha but given the small changes to the environment from when he left, he could not have been gone for as long as he had thought.

Dwalin's wounds had just been fully attended to and the large dwarf was heavily wrapped and covered in healing balm. The smell of witch hazel was pungent within the confines of the canvas walls but it did not bother Thorin.

What bothered him were the dark bruises that had formed beneath Dwalin's eyes from his broken nose that was now swelling. Along the column of his neck, Thyra had done well to leave her marks. Purple, blue, and black blotches blossomed around his neck and with each swallow, a pained expression came to Dwalin's face.

He moved his eyes to Thyra who was still being tended to by Sigurd. For such a short amount of time that he had been gone, he was taken aback by the progression of her weariness.

She looked as if she were asleep sitting up and it was the only occasional half lift of her eyelids that indicated she was still fighting pull into slumber. With each lowering of her eyelashes, the delay in their reopening was longer than that last.

A deep purple bruise was displayed across her forehead. With the cut now clean, Sigurd spread a thin layer of healing ointment across the wound. He winced at the matching bruises she had displayed along her own neck. However, seeing them on her was even worse than the sight of Dwalin. Despite the raw power he had seen her manifest less than a few hours ago, at this moment, Thyra looked frail.

That is until Balin posed a question that caused her dark eyes to open fully as she became intune with the conversation about to proceed.

"Thorin what now?" came Balin's inquiry.

Thorin shook his head as he slumped forward and ran his hands over his tired face.

"We will depart in the morning," he announced. "There is no use delaying our journey. Therefore no point in us remaining longer than necessary."

A silent pause occurred before it was broken. This time it was Kili who spoke up.

"Who will we seek out now?"

"There is no one else," Thorin sighed. "The Guild, while not an original idea, was our last resort. From now on, we take this quest with no plans of receiving aid. There is no point in dabling in false hope."

Knowing his words were not ones of a leader who had confidence in his followers. Thorin took in a breath and lifted his head to look at each of his members individually.

"But it is of no concern, we do not need help," he said strongly. "I know that we will be successful in our quest. We will retrieve the arkenstone because of our trusty burglar. Isn't that right Mr. Baggins?"

Thorin looked at the small hobbit who looked nervous under the dwarfs scrutiny. But he swallowed deeply and nodded his head confidently. Thorin gave a small smile of satisfaction.

"Then it is settled," he said as he looked around at his company. "We do not need anyone's help."

While not members, Thorin's eyes eventually fell upon the two girls present.

Sigurd was actively trying to feign her ignorance of the conversation as she tried to look as though she were deafly tending to Thyra's injuries. Her attention set on Thyra's torso as she felt along her ribs and assessed the damage of Dwalin's kicks.

Thyra on the other hand was unabashedly looking at him, fully intune with the conversation being held between himself and his men. He saw her wince slightly as Sigurd proded a sensitive area on her side. But it was but a brief moment before a look came over her face and Thorin knew, she saw past the lie he had just fed his men.

Thyra stood. Her legs wobbled beneath her but after swaying a few moments she had regained her balance.

With slow steps and a disregard for Sigurd's raised protests, she swiftly walked out of the tent with only a single phrase in Régan to Sigurd's numerous questions that left the latter girl with a perplexed expression.

* * *

Thyra returned to the tent an hour later and looking as if she were a dead corpse walking. Her movements were beyond sluggish as her feet failed to lift fully in a shuffle towards the back of the tent.

Sigurd immediately began interrogating her and moved to take up where she left off in her healing. But her words fell upon deaf ears and her hands where nudged away as Thyra walked past her and collapsed face down onto her cot. The last of her energy was spent on pulling a blanket halfway up her legs before she passed out from exhaustion, her consciousness diving into a void far deeper than sleep.

Sigurd let out a discouraged sigh but it seemed her concern for Thyra's welfare was not enough to tempt her to try and rouse. Instead she went about cleaning up the bloody and dirty mess that had been left behind from tending to the two competitors.

The rest of the company who had paused in their dealings of packing and preparing for their departure in the morning, went back to their own menial tasks. But they did not get far into their duties when another disruption came in the form of Asha.

Her hazel eyes swept the room, landing on Thyra sleeping for a moment, then finally settling on Thorin. Her heart beat a little faster but she kept her composure indifferent.

"We will be out of your hair tomorrow morning," Thorin said.

Asha shook her head, causing a look of confusion to overcome the dark haired man.

"Make it at least the day after. We have things to discuss if I am to help you."

Thorin's confused expression deepened into a perplexed gaze.

"I am sorry but I thought that…"

"Are you saying you do not want my help?"

"No," Thorin quickly protested. "We do. I just…"

He drifted off when Asha lifted a brow and he knew it would be best to only stay quiet.

"It's late. We will discuss the details in the morning," she said with her arms crossed. "Until then goodnight."

She swiftly turned and walked out of the tent, leaving a stunned room. Even Sigurd looked taken aback by the announcement. All eyes stared at the flap that Asha had just walked out of. All except the slumbering Régínn who was now sprawled out on her back with one foot hanging off the cot as she continued to sleep on, unaware of what had just taken place.

Thorin suddenly bolted from the tent and scanned the area to see Asha only a few tents away.

"Asha," he called taking several quickened steps to close the gap between them.

When she stopped and turned, Thorin looked straight into her eyes as he breathed deeply, unsure of what to say. With a quick conclusion, he decided to express the only words he could form in his disbelief.

"Thank you," he said gratefully.

"Do not thank me," she said quietly. "Thank Thyra."

Thorin tilted his head as his brows pulled together.

"Thyra?" he asked, not understanding her answer.

Asha nodded.

"I have never heard that girl request anything from anyone. Not even after recovering when I first found her and she had not drunk for three days did she even ask for a drop of water. But today she did, and after what I had done, how could I have denied such a selfless request."

She said no more and turned to return to her own quarters, grateful that Thorin did not ask for more or follow. She was weary and drained. Her answer had been honest.

Thyra did technically ask her, or in better terms demanded her to help. What she had not told him was that Thyra's request did not change her mind but only instilled it. The moment she had finished reading her letter Asha had changed her own mind. She just hoped she would not regret this decision.

. . . . . . . . . . . .


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Fourth Encounter Part: V

"Thyra come on," Sigurd encouraged as she tried to rouse the girl from sleep.

Kili had been watching Sigurd for the past ten minutes as she gently tried and failed to wake the slumbering girl. As time went on, an uncharacteristically agitated expression came to Sigurd's face. Getting fed up with her passive approach she thrust her thumb none too gently into the middle of Thyra's back. The girl let out a grunt of pain but did not budge.

"Thyra I know your awake!"

When there was no reply Sigurd threw her hands into the air and let out a groan of defeat.

"What's wrong?" Kili asked as he finally approached her.

Sigurd's eyes moved from Thyra to him and she slumped in stature.

"We have chores to do and Thyra won't wake up," she said, sending a glare at the girls back.

Kili looked at the small body that somehow took up the entirety of the cot as Thyra lay spread out in every direction with her face planted into her pillow.

"Let me try," he suggested helpfully.

Sigurd gave him an unsure look but finally nodded her head and indicated to the sleeping girl in invitation for him to try.

Kili walked confidently up the Thyra's cot and moved to touch her. For one moment, just before he made contact, he felt as though he was about to poke a sleeping bear. But he wanted to be helpful to Sigurd so he swallowed down the feeling and shook the girls shoulder.

"Rise and shine Thyra. The sun is up and the early bird gets the worm," he chimed optimistically.

Thyra bolted up and Kili was pulled down by the collar of his shirt until he was nose to nose with Thyra.

The dark charcoal that lined her eyes was smeared from a night of hard slumber. Combined with the purple bruises on her cheeks, it gave the illusion of hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes, making her look ghoulish.

Kili let out a high pitched screech as he instinctively tried to pull away from the haunting sight. But he only felt himself being pulled closer as he was forced to look straight into her eyes. They were an oxymoron; icy dark pools that burned brightly as she growled at him.

"The early bird may get the worm, but it is the early risen bug that dies," she seethed in a raspy voice. "I suggest you disappear little cockroach before I end you."

Her dark threat was ended as she forcefully pushed him away and buried herself back under the covers.

Kili stood shaking as if he had just been approached by a demon that had risen from the darkest depths of the underworld. He looked to Sigurd who was staring at him wide eyed.

"Maybe it would be better if I helped you instead," he suggested, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

His eyes flashed across the room to where Fili was standing with his hand on his sword and glaring at Thyra.

"And Fili can help as well," he suggested, thinking it wise to keep the two distant from each other.

He looked back to Sigurd and gave her an optimistic smile.

"That way you can be done even faster and Thyra can get her rest. I am sure she is just recovering from yesterday."

Kili swore he heard the hum of agreement come from Thyra's direction but chose not to look at her. He was positive he would be avoiding any contact with the girl for quite some time until the image of her demonic eyes no longer haunted him. He wondered if that would ever be possible in any near future.

"Are you sure?" Sigurd asked hesitantly. "Its cleaning out the stalls."

Kili did his best to keep from grimacing as he pasted a forced smile on his face.

"Of course," he agreed. "Let's just not mention that fact to Fili until after he has agreed."

* * *

"Why is it that every time we make a bet, no matter what the outcome, it seems to always end up with in my favor?"

Asha looked up from her desk to see Thorin standing in the doorway.

"You said you wanted to speak about the details in the morning," he explained, indicating the morning sunlight that flowed behind him. "I am assuming that you have certain requirements and demands?"

Asha nodded as she sat back and indicated the vacant seat across from her. As Thorin stepped forward and took his seat, Asha folded her hands and looked down at her lap while she pondered how to begin. She looked up to find Thorin staring at her softly.

"Gandalf explained to me the urgency that you have to get to the mountain before Durin's day."

"Aye," Thorin nodded.

"And I assume you will be taking the Mirkwood road to accomplish such a feat?"

Thorin nodded again, causing Asha to bite her lip thoughtfully as she processed this information.

"I can't risk taking my army through such a place." she finally responded. "That place is not right and it is too dangerous, especially for large numbers. Perhaps smaller groups can easily pass through without being detected by what lurks in the dark forest, but an entire army would be too much."

"I cannot take another way," Thorin defended. "It would take too long."

Asha nodded in agreement.

"And I understand that. That is why I will not ask you to. Instead I will take my group around while you travel through. We should still make good timing and be there in time to aid you in the aftermath of what is to come from venturing within the mountain."

Thorin nodded his head in agreeance to everything she had so far proposed.

However," she added, "I wish to send Thyra and Sigurd along with your group."

"Why?" He questioned. Not necessarily out of disagreement but only curiosity.

"Call it a...reassurance policy," she said. "I want to make sure that this is a cause worthy of the lives that will be risked."

"Why those two?"

Asha shrugged.

"Thyra has the skills to not slow you down and she has exceptional skills at scouting out dangers. Like Thyra, Sigurd will keep up and her healing skills will be of useful. But I send her more because of Thyra."

"Is Thyra going to be a problem?"

Asha shook her head.

"No. She will be under strict order to listen to you and she will obey flawlessly, however as skilled as she is she has her flaws. Communication is not exactly her best feat. She knows Westron well enough but she is not perfect. If she gets too frustrated or under pressure she tends to struggle. Sigurd can help should that ever happy. She is not entirely fluent but she had learned enough that she will be able to get by. She is also the best when it comes to dealing with Thyra's personality. It can come off as a bit…abrasive to those not used to her," she finished. "Sigurd is like that spoonful of sugar and bit of cream in your coffee to make the bitterness a bit easier to swallow."

Thorin thought for a moment. He had his concerns such as Sigurd's soft nature. And while Thyra had fighting skills, he had also seen the way she and his nephew failed to get along. He did not like the idea of contention within his group but he believed that his nephew would not lower himself to bickering. Fili could be depended on to not let their contention effect the company's journey. And with the assurance of Asha's promising Thyra would behave, along with Sigurd's presence, he found himself able to accept their coming with him.

"Very well," he agreed. "What else?"

Asha lifted a brow.

"You assume I have more demands?"

Thorin looked at her with a tilt of his head.

"Are there no more?" He asked.

Asha smirked.

"I still want the opportunity of my men and women to be able to settle in Erebor should they wish, I want the guild to always be granted supplies in the future should we call for it, and I want the ability to back out anytime without any ramifications that would soil the reputation of the guild."

Thorin pondered her demands.

"I can agree to most but I must make an amendment on offering settlement to your people. You know the laws of our people. I can agree to any dwarf settling in Erebor but any other race I cannot allow. However, I can offer them lands outside of the stronghold."

Asha nodded and stood up as she held her hand out.

"It is an agreement," she said as Thorin did the same and shook her hand. "Oh, one more thing."

"Yes?"

"You are welcome to stay however long you want, but you will participate in chores and tasks that are needed to be done. Everyone pulls their own weight around here and you will not be an exception."

Thorin nodded.

"Just tell us what to do and it shall be done."

* * *

To say Fili was unhappy, was an understatement. He had just spent the entire morning with a scarf wrapped around his nose and mouth that did little to keep the smell away.

Sigurd had offered him an oil to put on the scarf to help with the smell but the moment he found out it was a mixture of Thyra's, he had denied the offering. He regretted it later but he was too proud to rectify his situation.

He wanted nothing to do with the girl. She bothered him by always finding a way to be on his mind. It was now almost to the point that it had become obsessive. What bothered him the most was that he could never truly find a legitimate reason to dislike her.

Perhaps it was their first interaction, they had literally started off on the wrong foot when she had flipped him to the ground. Or maybe it was her lack of effort in remembering his name. There was no telling the real reason earlier, but that inability to pin print the reason was in the past. Because at this very moment, as he dug bucket fulls of what he knew to not just be dirt, he found a reason to loathe her.

She was the reason why he was doing this. She was the one who had been the lazy sloth that woke up on the wrong side of the continent. It was her actions that caused him to be in such a position. His boots and trousers where soiled and he was sure no amount of washing would free them of the stench seeping into the fabric of his clothing.

And the happy humming and cheerful conversation of Sigurd and Kili did nothing to improve his dark cloud of a mood.

By the time they finished with cleaning out the manure and laid out fresh straw for the livestock, it was lunchtime. After washing up and scouring every inch of his body with the harshest soap he could find, Fili hoped that with a full belly, his sour mood would improve.

However, as the sloppy mess of lumpy brown stew that had a consistency closely resembling his earlier morning task, Fili instantly lost his appetite.

After lunch they were chored with helping in the kitchen by cleaning up after lunch and then helping with preparations for dinner. Just before dinner they were tasked with laundry. This last chore of the day was not as vile as his earlier tasks, but after being bent over for two hours as he rinsed and scrubbed dirty sheets, his back ached.

Needless to say, by the time it got to dinner and he was sitting down to the highlight of his day, a simple meal of bread, mutton, and brussel sprouts, his mood had yet to really improve. But when Sigurd informed them that their duties for the day had been finished and they had the rest of the night to do as they pleased, there was a small spark of improvement to his mood.

Unfortunately before the spark could take flame, the heavy clatter of a plate being carelessly tossed onto the table, followed by Thyra's presence descending upon them, that spark was extinguished.

He looked at her as she wordlessly began eating. She had heavy bags under her bloodshot eyes and looked as though she had just woken up. The swelling of her injuries had decreased significantly but the dark bruises were still there as well as the cut that would obviously scar on her forehead.

Fili's eyes trailed down her arms taking in the other accumulated bruises but stopped when he came to crook of her left arm. A dark line had been inked and then split to branch and taper off farther down her mid arm. It reminded him of a bolt of lightning across the sky.

He remembered seeing it back in Rivendale but if memory served him, there had only been two lines that branched off from the main line. What had grabbed his attention was the fact that there were now three branches feeding from the main line. The red and irritated skin around the fresh looking ink told him that this line was in fact a new addition. And given the freshness of the tattoo, he could only assume it had been done today. His mood darkened even more.

While he had been shoveling feces and scrubbing pots, she had been sleeping and getting herself tattoos. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and glared.

Feeling his stare, Thyra looked up to meet his eyes. Her expression was one uncaring of the dark look he was giving her.

This only served to aggravate Fili even more. He opened his mouth to question her actions but she spoke first, her head turning to the side to address someone else.

"Siggy," she called.

At first both Fili and Kili where confused as to whom she was speaking to, but when Sigurd turned to her at Thyra's call, it became obvious. What did not make sense was the fact that Thyra was using a nickname to address Sigurd. The trait did not seem to pair up with her characteristics.

"The duties are done?" Thyra asked when she saw that she had gained her attention.

Sigurd nodded.

"Yes, Fili and Kili were kind enough to help and everything was completed earlier than expected.

Thyra nodded and stood from her seat having finished her meal.

"Very well, I go sleep," she said, her accent thicker than usual in her groggy state.

Fili's brow furrowed. She had given no thanks or even a look of recognition for what Sigurd, his brother, and himself had done for her.

"No thanks necessary," Fili muttered sarcastically under his breath, not sure if he truly meant for her to hear or not.

However, Thyra's hearing was much keener than he thought and her attention moved to him before she had made a move to leave.

"I know," she said bluntly.

Fili was taken aback by her lack of manners. While he himself did not care if she thanked him or not, her lack of appreciation to Sigurd did not impress.

"It is usually proper etiquette to be appreciative and acknowledge a service that has been done for you," he tutored. "Or do you not have civil manors in the east?"

Kili kicked out at his brother from beneath the table. But aside from the small wince of pain, the warning went unnoticed as Fili continued to stare down Thyra, determined to get some sort of acknowledgement. Fili never expected praise from others, but there was something about Thyra's blatant rudeness that got under his skin and provoked him.

Thyra's dark eyes stared tiredly back at him as she tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"We have many manners and rules of etiquette in my lands. However I see no need for them at the moment. I did not ask you to help, therefore, I owe nothing."

Fili frowned but said nothing in reply as she walked away.

"I appreciated the help," Sigurd assured him once Thyra was gone. "As I am sure Thyra is too. So just does not express her thanks very often...at least not verbally. I am sure she will find her own way later."

Fili gave her a doubtful look and shook his head.

"There is no need for you to thank us. You yourself did the work and was the one who cared for her injuries last night."

Sigurd gave him a small smile and nodded. An awkward silence then fell upon them until finally Kili spoke up.

"So Siggy, huh?"

Sigurd gave a more genuine smile at the name and nodded.

"It's what Thyra has called me nearly ever since we first meet. Asha says its because she connected with me and it's her way of endearment to our friendship but honestly...I think it is because Thyra butchered my name so badly when I first introduced myself that she only calls me that because she could never get my name right."

Kili smiled.

"I like it, it suits you."

Sigurd's smile widened even more.

"Then if you wish you may call me that as well."

Kili grinned as he nodded in agreement before finishing his meal eagerly so that he could be given a tour of camp that had been promised by Sigurd earlier that day.

* * *

It was not her intention to spend any more time than necessary with him.

But as the day went on and reports became fewer, Asha soon found herself making her way towards the smithery where she watched Thorin work from afar. He had shed his coat and now only wore a thin tunic with the sleeves rolled up as he labored over the hot furnace. His focus was entirely on shaping the hot iron into its correct form. It was only a simple mending of a pot worn thin, but Asha could tell he was putting just as much care and deliverance into it as he would a fine sword.

He was just as handsome as ever. His age showed with the greying stripes in his hair and beard but his physical shape was as she always remembered, strong and proud. Even has sweat poured down his forehead he still carried himself in away that would tell any passerby that this man was more than just a blacksmith.

"So the rumors are true, you became a blacksmith," Asha stated, causing Thorin to pause in his work.

Sticking his handy work into the vate of cool water that resulted in an eruption of steam, he added his work to the pile of finished products and walked towards her.

Asha handed him a ladle of water from the barrel she was standing next to and he gratefully accepted it. Refilling the ladle, Thorin settled himself on an empty stool next to Asha as they both fell silent and watched the others work.

"Gendal told me your skills are impeccable. Perhaps if this quest does not turn out I could persuade you to join the ranks," Asha amused after a while.

A soft smile adorned his lips at her comment but he said nothing in reply.

Together they sat in the hustle and bustle of the smithery. Chaos of hammers striking against metal and the radiating heat of the forge that came in waves with each blow of the bellows enveloped them. The drowning noise became their companion as they sat peacefully and watched the other workers as their minds mused over the what ifs, what could haves, and what should haves of their lives.

"Why did you not come to me?" Thorin finally asked softly.

He looked at her as he awaited his answer. Asha was looking down at her hands laid out in her lap as her teeth worried her bottom lip in thought.

"I suppose I was afraid at first. Your last words were not exactly the most inviting…"

"You know I did not mean them," Thorin quickly interjected.

Asha nodded.

"Yes, I do now. But at the time I was not in my right mind. Nor were those who survived with me, and I could not abandon them."

"There was something not right about going back into civilization immediately. We had trauma, anger, and loss to cope with. So we decided that we would create something worth living for. We knew there would never be recovery from our fall but we wanted to prevent it from happening to others. So we made a life, established some rules, and built the guild."

She looked up at him.

"I have to admit, there were many times over the years that I was tempted to seek out the famed Thorin Oakenshield. If but to just catch a glimpse. But each time we traveled near the blue mountains I could not bring myself to go through with it. I once managed to get to the front gates of Ered Luin. But before I could step foot into the city I was enveloped with cowardice."

Thorin took a moment to process this. She had been so close to him and he had not even known it.

There were times in his life, rare moments when he would feel small tugs that urged to stop what he was doing and follow their pull. But he had always ignored them and wrote them off as his imagination.

Now, he wondered if it were perhaps something more, something of Mahal's doing that could have drawn him to her. Had he just followed, just one time, would he have found her much sooner?

His moment of thinking was stopped when Asha continued.

"We have certain rules within the guild to keep things in order. One of them is to leave the past in the past. We do not question and we do not speak about things before our time with the guild. We call ourselves the Guild of the Lost for a reason. We want to remain unfound by what haunts us."

She looked up at him.

"It may seem like an unconventional way of coping and perhaps it does nothing to heal our turmoil, but it works for us. Only if a person is willing to share and another willing to listen do we speak our histories aloud. And we only share others pasts before the guild when given permission. I obviously broke those rules the other day and I regret my words. They were said in anger."

Thorin avoided her eyes now.

"We say many things in anger. I have yet to meet a person who did not regret uttered words in those circumstances."

He looked back up to see her watching him closely. A look of agreeance was written on her face as she nodded.

"We may not have had the most lucky of shared past…" she paused a moment as if hesitant to continue. "But perhaps...we could start anew, as fellow leaders in the world. It may not be as we originally imagined it. But maybe our families could finally come into some sort of friendship…"

Her tone was unsure but when Thorin's face turned up into the smallest of smiles and gave a nod, she could not help but beem up at him.

Seeing her like this made Thorin's heart accel. It was as if it were reminding him that this was not what he truly desired. But Thorin knew he was not one to be privileged with pickiness. He would take what he could get. Friendship was already above what he deserved with her.

"Friends?" he asked holding out a hand.

Asha looked up at him and slowly placed a small hand that once had always been smooth but was now rough and calloused into his. She nodded.

"Friends," she agreed and in that moment Asha began to think that perhaps, just maybe, it would not be so bad if Thorin met her son.

His son.

Their son.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: The Fourth Encounter Part: VI

The next few days were spent recuperating and doing their share in the duties given to them around the compound. Thorin had originally thought to depart the day following his and Asha's agreement but he found it difficult and it did not take much rationalizing to convince him to stay.

His first argument was that Thyra and Dwalin needed more recovery time. After the second day following the dual, Thyra had finally managed to awaken from her two day hibernation and was back to her usual abrasive self, much to the displeasure and pleasure of Fili.

Fili had not liked doing her share of the chores but at the same time, her presence while attending to their duties seemed to bring about a turbulent mood in the air. Thankfully, Asha seemed to notice this and gave the company assignments that did not coincide with Sigurd's and Thyra's duties for the majority of the day. Unfortunately this change came to the utter disappointment of Kili.

Thorin did not see much of Asha in the days passing, but he learned plenty of her.

While it was forbidden to speak of things from their past lives before the guild, the members all made up for it by sharing their adventures and dealings of their years within the faction. He had said she disappointed her a few days ago but he could not help but be impressed by the legacy she had built for herself in the past century.

Everyone respected her and there was hardly any contention within the population. For any that did arise, it was resolved within the fighting ring. Quarrelers where placed into the fighting ring to fight out a resolution to their issues. If they could not come to an agreeance, at least they were able to release their anger and let things go.

Over the years, the guild had traveled the lands of middle earth. Never staying in one place longer than necessary and never making themselves fully known. Only the villages they saved and from the evil that survived were able to speak of their existence.

It seemed people came and went as they pleased. Asha did not require them to dedicate their entire lives. When a person found peace to move on they did, though few ever left. Those who did, usually came back. So it was over the years that their population slowly grew into an army. Having started with less than two dozen, their numbers had grown to a few hundred.

They lived by rules and all swore an oath to keep those rules. But it was an oath to the guild, not to Asha. After speaking with Habard, Thorin discovered that Asha first wanted it to be led by a council but after protests of them wanting her to keep leadership, she compromised. She led, but took council and made decisions based on a selection of the population. All were equal no matter what their position was within the community. It was a utopia for the haunted and it was now Thorin's saving grace in what was to come.

* * *

Thyra stood at the edge of the stream with her dress lifted and tucked into the thick belt around her waist, leaving the hem to fall just above her knees in an attempt to keep it from becoming wet. Her face stayed in concentration as she worked to collect the freshwater mussels from the large boulder they had attached themselves to. Sigurd stood next to her, her dress was raised in the same fashion as Thyra as they worked diligently together.

Fili and Kili were in the middle of the stream fishing, or at least Fili was. Kili stood leaning on his spear as his eyes wandered over to watch the two girls bent over collecting mollusks.

Fili noticed Kili's lack of work effort and followed his brothers line of sight. His cheeks turned a faint pink as he made contact with the maidens backsides then quickly shook his head and looked back to his brother with disapproval. His hand instantly shot up to clip the back of his brothers head causing Kili to let out a small yelp.

Ignoring his brothers pain, Fili went back to concentrating on spearing a fish as the two girls looked behind them to the source of the pained cry. They both stood and watched Kili rub the back of his head while glaring at Fili whose face still held a red tinge as he kept his eyes magnetized to the water, not daring to look anywhere else.

Sigurd watched Kili, a small hint of sympathy and concern spreading across her face as she tried to determine if he was in need of her healing or if it was something he could overcome himself.

Thyra on the other hand spared him only a moment's glance, indifference plainly written on her face before she went back to work. After several moments she nudged Sigurd from watching the youngest Durin brother to remind her that they had work to do.

As Sigurd moved her attention to Thyra, who had gone back to pulling the mollusks from the rock and placing them in the basket, she frowned and stooped down to flick her finger across the waters surface. A splash of a few droplets scattered through the air and landed on Thyra's cheek.

Thyra shot Sigurd a venomous glare as she mumbled a quiet chastisement under her breath in Régan. Disregarding the threatening tone in Thyra's voice, Sigurd repeated the action. This time using her entire hand instead of only her finger tips.

Water splashed up into Thyra's face and shoulder causing her to stand fully up with her hands balled into fists as she glared at Sigurd. Sigurd's earlier smile of amusement faltered as a slight twinge of unwary fear and cation came to her face.

Thyra took a step forward as Sigurd stepped back to keep the same amount of distance between them. Thyra took another step forward as Sigurd repeated the same action. As they made their movements, Sigurd's caution had slowly disappeared as a challenging smirk came to her face.

It continued for several more steps until Sigurd was knee deep in the stream. The moment Thyra stopped her pursuit she glanced down at the water's surface where Sigurd stood near a darker pool of the stream.

An evil, dark look of pure malicious joy stretched across Thyra's face. Sigurd's smirk faltered. She glanced back to what Thyra had been focusing on and realized the Régínn's intent.

Sigurd was standing at the edge of a drop off in the river's water bed. Judging by the darkness of the water, Sigurd knew the depth would certainly be deeper than her waist. She looked back to Thyra, with panic in her eyes she raised her hands up in an attempt to dissuade her attacker.

"Now Thyra...", began Sigurd in a diplomatic tone.

Her attempt to reason with the other dwarrow maid was cut short as Thyra took a final step and with two fingers, gave Sigurd a strong push against her shoulder, causing the other girl to tumble backward.

A screech, followed by a loud splash, sounded as water erupted up into the air and rained back down. As the water began to settle, Sigurd breached the water's surface with several sputters as she tried to keep the shocked scream of sudden coldness from escaping her lips.

"What in Mahal's name was that for!" She yelled at Thyra who stood above her with her arms crossed and a pleased look on her face.

Thyra smiled with satisfaction as she looked down at her victim.

"You splash, I splash" she said plainly before turning around to walk back to finish their task.

Sigurd narrowed her eyes as she took on a very Thyra like vehemence in her appearance. As Thyra had began walking away when Sigurd drew her arm back and pushed it forward quickly as she caused a shower of water to be pushed towards the retreating dwarrow maids back.

Thyra froze as her back stiffened from the shock of cold water that seeped into her clothes and chilled her skin. As the last few droplets that missed her fell still into the water, silence overtook the area with nothing but the slow trickle of the river flowing past.

Finally, after several long moments, a muffled snort sounded, followed by a chorus of laughter. Both Thyra and Sigurd tuned to look over to where Fili and Kili stood doubled over as they each laughed at the spectacle that had just taken place before them.

Thyra narrowed her eyes in their direction then looked to Sigurd who was looking worriedly between the two laughing princes and Thyra. Thyra walked back over to Sigurd and offered a hand to her as another cynical smile came to her face.

"Before the beginning of a war, it is best to establish an ally. Even if in the past they have been foes." She said quietly. "Truce?"

Sigurd replicated Thyra's smirk as she accepted the offered hand and let the eastern dwarf pull her from the deep water to stand back on the ledge. Together they faced the Durin brothers and began walking forward.

Fili and Kili did not notice the dwarrow maid's close proximity until it was too late.

Both Thyra and Sigurd began their attack as they kicked water in their direction, causing the brothers to let out cries of protest as they cringed away from the cold water hitting their sun warmed skin. As they recovered from the attack they exchanged their own volley of splashes.

Kili charged at the girls, grabbing Sigurd around the waist as he began to pull her back to the drop off.

Seeing her ally in trouble, Thyra latched onto Kili, bringing him to a stop as she began to pry him away from Sigurd. Just as Sigurd was set free, Fili came from behind Thyra and latched his arms around her in a vice like grip, pinning her arms to her side.

With her help detained, Kili re established his grip around Sigurds waist but not before Thyra caught his foot with her own. His footing was lost and Kili tumbled forward with Sigurd, causing them both to plunge into the deep water. Although Sigurd was sacrificed, Thyra could not help but grin in triumph as Kili resurfaced looking like a wet puppy as he stood in the deep pool. Water dripped from his soaked hair as Sigurd treaded water next to him, laughing and pointing.

Thyra's grin quickly faltered as Fili began to drag her towards the deeper part of the river. Immediately she began to struggle but she had still yet to fully recover from her tussle with Dwalin. In her weakened state, she failed to break Fili's grip with her arms pinned at such awkward angles. So she resulted to thrashing, causing Fili to stumble. Fili stubbled but kept his grip.

Noting her efforts where still fruitless and the edge was nearing, Thyra strategized a new tactic.

She immediately stopped struggling and let Fili carry her forward. Just as they approached the edge of the shallow water she dug her heels into the river bed and arched her back, catching Fili off guard. The moment she felt him push the smallest bit against her resistance, she bent forward and curled her head into her chest to gain as much momentum as possible.

Fili flew forward, releasing his grip and freeing her arms. The moment her arms became free she grabbed his arms instead and continued to pull him up and over until he was hurdling into the water beside his brother. With a loud splash he sent water in every direction, showering the other three with a wave of droplets.

The moment he broke the surface, he reoriented himself to face Thyra who stood above all three. She beamed as she looked down at them with a gleeful satisfaction. Then as if they all conceived the same idea, the three dwarves looked at each other with a glint of mischief in their eyes.

Even Sigurd silently looked to Fili and Kili before giving a subtle nod.

Thyra frowned as they all turned back to face her. She took a step back as she flashed a warning look to Sigurd.

"We made truce," she said sternly.

Her accent coming out thickly as she was caught off guard by the betrayal.

"Yes," replied Sigurd. "But I don't appreciate being sacrificed."

Thyra's eyes narrowed as she backed up again, causing the new allegiance to begin their advance.

"We have work to do," Thyra protested. "Enough childish games," she added as she waved them off as if unconcerned by impeding the threat.

"Aw common Thyra, are you scared you will lose?"

Thyra stiffened and directed her glare to Kili who had spoken.

"It is ok, you can just admit defeat and jump in willingly," Kili urged on.

Distracted by Kili's words, Thyra failed to register both Sigurd and Fili climb to the shallow part of the river bed and sneak behind her. As Thyra opened her mouth to give a retort to Kili's taunting, two pairs of hands pushed her forward and sent her falling forward into the deep pool.

The water disrupted and sent waves that altered the usual course of the river's current. As the water settled it went back to its routine current before being disrupted again as Thyra burst through the water with a shocked gasp. She moved her eyes towards the two who had pushed her in.

At first her eyes gleamed with a dark revenge, then slowly softened as she let the corner of her mouth turn into a slanted grin as she let out an impressed huff.

"You have learned the art of surviving a war Siggy. Well played," she said in defeat as she flicked a handful of water in their direction.

Sigurd grinned in triumph before taking a running start and jumped back into the deep water next to Thyra. A wave of water washed over Thyra's head causing her to instinctively cover her face in protection. As Sigurd slowly resurfaced she sent a wide grin to Thyra who responded with a small splash of water.

Fili walked to the edge and sat down in the water as he let his feet dangle down into the deeper drop off. Not wanting to be left out, Kili swam over to join the two maids. The moment he reached them Thyra reached over and dunked him.

"What was that for?!" He sputtered as he managed to resurface. "Our war is over, we won."

Thyra smiled.

"That was for implying I was afraid," she answered. "And you should never expect a fallen enemy not to retaliate. By causing their downfall, you have only given them more reason to see you destroyed."

Sigurd rolled her eyes at the serious tone in which Thyra gave her warning. She wrapped her arms around Thyra and gave her a hug causing the blonde to stiffen at the gesture.

"Calm down Thyra it was just a game. You don't have to take every challenge so seriously."

As Sigurd spoke Thyra managed to free herself from Sigurd's embrace. The dark haired girl only looked to Kili and raised her eyebrows in invitation. Kili grinned as they both threw themselves at Thyra and encircled her with their bodies.

Thyra let out a string of protests and curses in her native tongue as she tried to pull herself away from them. Her protest only urged them to further their activities as they laughed at her struggle to free herself.

Fili watched from the sidelines. He couldn't help the small smile form on his lips as he watched his brother and Sigurd encasing a raging Thyra between their arms.

Despite Thyra's curses and threats as she accused the two of trying to drown her, he could see the hint of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. And if he were not completely mistaken, within her dark eyes there was a sparkle of amusement. When the girl was pushed fully under and began to show signs of struggling to stay a float from her lack of height compared to the other two, he decided it was time to interfere.

He pushed off the edge into the deep and swam to Thyra's rescue. It was an uncharacteristic move on his part but at this moment, Thyra seemed so normal he did not even question his motive.

* * *

 ****

 **Farther from the edge of the river, tucked away in the woods, Asha leaned against a tree as she watched the youth playing in the water. She let out a small chuckle as she watched Fili free Thyra only to receive a lash out of curse words from her in thanks.**

 **"Thyra is an odd one to figure out."**

 **At the sound of his deep baritone voice, Asha startled and looked behind her to see Thorin approaching her. As he reached the tree she was braced against, he came around the other side and leaned against it to watch the younger dwarves interact.**

 **"I don't know," sighed Asha.**

 **Thorin spared a glance and watched her for a moment as she kept her attention on Thyra. He tilted his head to the side as he pondered her answer.**

 **"You think you have her all figured out?"**

 **Asha thought about her answer before speaking.**

 **"Perhaps not completely. I don't think anyone can truly understand another person. But in retrospect, I think she is very much like you and me. Born into a life that was disturbed by evil and forced to grow up faster than should. In her case, I believe it was just much faster than either of us."**

"Thyra said that her King sold them into slavery," Thorin commented as he recalled his conversation with Thyra back in Rivendell.

Asha nodded.

"I never met the man, but if the rumors were true, I would not believe King Tyr as a monarch to do such a thing."

"I met him, once," she supplied.

"And did you believe him to be such a man?"

Asha shook her head, a contemplative expression on her face.

"I believe King Tyr, is no more."

Thorin looked at her with a staggered expression.

"Has Thyra confirmed that?"

Asha shrugged.

"I cannot say for sure. Thyra has not divulged much of what has happened in her past."

Thorin nodded.

"Ah yes the rules. No one is allowed to speak of their pasts before the guild."

"No, it's not that. The rules do not apply to Thyra," Asha admitted. "She is technically not part of the guild, therefore speaking of her past is free reign. She is only here because of the life debt. She functions with the rest of the camp because I told her she must if she insists on serving me. She never took the oath so she is not under the jurisdiction of the rules."

"Then what gives you insight of what has happened in the east?"

"Her body says much of what has happened in the east," provided Asha. "And her behaviors. The east has always been shrouded in darkness. Always in turmoil and struggle. Harsh worlds breed hard people that is what our ancestors always wrote of their race. But the few things in which Thyra has told me, it tells me that girl has seen more turmoil than the norm."

She looked back to Thyra as the Régínn's face transformed it to a youthful smile as Sigurd shoved Kili under water.

"Thyra is young, not even of age by the Khazad standards, but mentally she is far older than even I am. Her intellect and insight is superior but her true soul is still young, she has just disciplined herself to not show it often. But every so often..." she raised a hand to gesture at the laughing girl as she splashed with the others, "...she gets to be a youngling."

They watched quietly for a moment before she spoke again.

"In reality, Thyra reminds me a lot of myself. She was a kid that was forced to grow up sooner than she should."

Thorin let out an ironic chuckle that held an undertone of darkness.

"I feel as though that happens too often during these dark days."

Asha nodded.

"Yes. Dark days they are. There are many whispers of things happening in the Far East and even in the not as far south," she responded. "I cannot say when it was as she only mentioned it once, but Thyra once mentioned something of an uprising or a revolt. I cannot help but wonder if that was the cause of their sudden cease of making contact with the west. As well as the possible change of their monarchy. If that is the case, I wonder about the coincidence of it all. According to Thyra, Vahil had an uprising and is now under slavery of an unknown master, Dhom was besieged by a goblin army, and Erebor is scorched by a dragon. Something is stirring and I fear these events have only been the beginnings of a bigger plot that is to come into play."

"Did Thyra ever say why they came here?"

As Thorin asked his question he looked to Asha and found her frowning in Thyra's direction. Finally, she looked to Thorin. Her eyes looked pained as she met his bright blue eyes.

"No. But I asked Gandalf once if he had heard anything that would expound our knowledge of her and her people."

"What was his answer?"

Asha rolled her eyes as she leaned her head against the tree bark.

"This is Gandalf we speak of," she began dryly. "He doesn't give answers. He gives riddles that only leave more questions to be asked."

Thorin chuckled.

"Aye that he does."

They fell silent for awhile as they watched the four dwarves in the river. They had finished their water games and were now proceeding back to their tasks.

"May I ask his riddle?" his question lingered in the air as he waited for her reply.

Asha pushed from the tree and stood before him, her back to the river.

"He said what is hidden in snow, is revealed in thaw."

Thorin's eyes narrowed in confusion as he tried to interpret the unfamiliar saying.

"I understand the meaning of the saying...but how does that apply to the situation."

Asha let out an amused laugh.

"Honestly, I first thought he said it because he himself does not know anything. But over time I have begun to learn how it applies." She nodded in the direction of Thyra. "Thyra may seem cold and distant at first, but with time she warms up to you. She is not secretive, just cautious. There is a reason why she is here and not to the east but she is unsure of who she can trust. And I do not blame her."

"She claims her grandfather was a fisherman. I have seen the evidence to prove it with her skills," Thorin commented. "But she seems more than that. I don't know too many fishermen who fight like her nor have that high of intellect."

"Thyra, in no lesser terms, is a genius." Asha commented. "She could be a prodigy if set in the right position. However I agree with you. Genius as she is, the knowledge she poses is not one that comes naturally but from experience. I have tried to place her in leadership roles but she seems hesitant. She accepts them when asked due to the life debt and she executes them flawlessly. But she doesn't like it. I don't think she is afraid of the pressure or responsibility of such things but it's more so the power she fears."

Silence fell upon them as they each watched the younger dwarves work. Three out of the four conducted a steady, cheerful conversation but all of them had smiles on their faces as they chattered on. As Thorin watched them work, he began to muse over the journey that was to come.

"What happened to Sigurd's parents?" he asked looking to Asha. "Sigurd said you raised her, but was adamant that you were not her mother. Maternal nor adoptive."

With eyes closed, Asha pursed her lips then brought in a deep breath before releasing it.

"I am telling you this because it will technically not be breaking the rules as Sigurd was born in the guild and therefore has no past before her time with it," she stated firmly. "But you will not ever let Sigurd know any of what I am about to tell you. I think she remembers more than what she lets on, but I cannot be sure. The mind does wonders for protecting itself against what it does not want to remember. However, it still leaves scars and Sigurd has just recently begun to overcome them."

She paused and awaited for his agreement to her terms. When he swore to not let it pass from his lips she nodded and began her tale.

"In order to understand the situation you must first understand her mother. I do not blame her for what happened….she was not in her right mind," she paused, then continued. "Sigurd's Mother's was among the few that escaped Dhom. She was not much older than myself and had been married for a few months before everything happened. Her husband did not make it and she had to witness….it."

A shiver ran down her spine and caused her shudder.

"We could not get her to speak after we escaped. She was lethargic and catatonic. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and it was not until she gave birth eight months later to a baby boy that she finally uttered enough words to name him."

Thorin's brow raised.

"Sigurd has a brother?"

Asha bowed her head.

"Had, she had a brother," she clarified. "After he was born, Sigurd's mother finally seemed to get over things. She named him after her late husband, Hane. At first I thought she was normal but after some time I noticed her obsessive behavior with her son but she took good care of him so I let her be."

"Years passed and we gained new members. There was one dwarrow that joined who saw her fragile state and took advantage of it. He was the first and only person to be executed instead of exiled from the guild. It was an unfortunate event but from it resulted Sigurd."

A fond smile came to Asha's face.

"She was the sweetest baby from day one. I truly believe Mahal sent her to us because she was what could heal her mother," her smile faded slightly. "At least I believe she could have but her mother never gave her a chance. From the day she was born Sigurd's mother neglected her. It is why Sigurd says that I raised her, but I am not her mother. That girl did everything to gain the attention of her mother, but the years went by and the progress was minimal."

"And her brother?" Thorin inquired.

Again another fond smile graced her lips as she thought.

"That boy doted on her. Spoiled her in every way that an older brother could. He was a good lad and a good friend to...the others his age," she paused for a moment as she swallowed thickly. "One particular day, he and Sigurd went out and got caught in a storm…"

Asha looked out to the river as sadness came over her.

"It was no ones fault…" she said in a quiet whisper. "He had always been sickly from the time he was born. I think something went wrong during the pregnancy because he had been a weak child, always getting sick and never as physically capable as others his age."

"After he and Sigurd returned when the storm passed, he got sick. It was nothing new but the only difference was he did not make it. Sigurd had stayed by his side trying to fight the fever while her mother sat and did nothing. I had seen him overcome so many other terms of illness that I did not think this one would be any different."

"His mother, Sigurd's mother, did not take it well. She completely lost it. She blamed Sigurd for his death. Told her it was her fault he had gotten sick because she wanted to venture out then told her she did not do enough to save him. Then she proceeded to tell her that it should have been her that died and not her son."

Two tears escaped Asha's eyes and she quickly wiped them away as she turned to him.

"After that, she fled the encampment. I should have sent someone out for her immediately but I was angry. When she had not returned by dawn I sent out some scouts. They found her in the woods with her wrists cut and there was nothing to be done."

"It was not a happy time and Sigurd took it harshly. She didn't speak for several days and both Habard and I worried it would be a repeat of her mother. When she finally did speak a few days later, she stuttered in her words and had a hard time keeping any eye contact. I tried to work with her but years passed by and there was no progress. The entire camp was instructed to be cautious of what they say."

Asha took in a deep breath and sighed.

"I coddled her, we all did. We could not help ourselves as she was the bringer of joy into most of their lives. Perhaps we were too cautious, but it felt like holding a flame over a fuse and we were all waiting for her to suddenly snap. Thankfully she proved me wrong. She persevered in learning the arts of healing. It helped in her confidence but she still had difficulty communicating with others. As our numbers grew, she stuck only to those she knew before the incident with the exception of healing them."

"She must have improved quite a lot by you description," Thorin observed. "She was a bit jittery and I admit nervous when we first met but she seems relaxed now. I don't even recall her stuttering when first meeting."

Asha nodded in agreement.

"That would be thanks to Thyra," replied Asha. "Thyra was the one who made her this way."

She let out a shift chuckle.

"I remember it like yesterday," she recalled. "It had been about two weeks after finding her and we had still yet to find out the girl knew Westron."

Thorin raised a brow and Asha let out a small laugh as she nodded.

"Aye, she played the same trick on us as well. Worked so well that we made it a protocol whenever with strangers. The girl can find out a lot when people underestimate her," she commented before continuing. "Anyways, Sigurd was trying to communicate with her and was failing poorly. The poor girl was stuttering a babbling on. It must have been torture enough because Thyra snapped. She slapped Sigurd across the face and told her to spit it out before she did the world a favor and cut out her tongue so she could not continue to inflict such tortures on any other."

Thorin chuckled.

"I can hardly imagine Thyra to do such a thing," he said sarcastically.

Asha joined him in his amusement as she shook her head.

"Had I known it was some tough love that Sigurd needed I would have given it to her years ago. But since that day Sigurd never stuttered unless under great pressure and with time the other things became more subtle as she became more confident."

She looked across the water then back to him, her face one of a more serious nature.

"Take care of them," she pleaded. "I know I am sending them with you and I promise they will not be a burden, but I still worry about them. Sigurd, despite the strength she has gained is still fragile. She is like broken china glued back together. Whole, but still brittle."

Her eyes trailed from him to Sigurd then to Thyra as she continued.

"Thyra is a warrior, but she is young. I know by the Régínn standards she has been of age for several decades, but she still has several years by our standards. She expresses her thoughts but not her emotions, at least not enough to be considered healthy. It may be more than I should ask but she seems to have a connection to you. I don't know what it is but, perhaps in the few months of traveling ahead of you, you will learn more than I have in the several years I have had with..."

She stopped her request when she felt Thorin's warm hand wrap around hers. Slowly she caused her eyes to drop down to where his hand encircled hers. She followed his arm up until she found his azure eyes looking down at her with a soft expression.

"No request coming from you is too much," he said softly.

Her lips turned up into a gentle smile and she nodded. Slowly, she went back to watching the river while Thorin let himself gaze down at her with a smile on his face and his hand still holding onto hers. Without a thought he let his thumb stroke her hand as her head relaxed against his shoulder. Content with the physically contact, he allowed his eyes to finally move away to join in watching the river.

* * *

The day had finally come for their departure. They had gathered on the outskirts of the wilderness just a quarter mile east from the main compound. Asha, Habard, and a few others that had become acquainted with the company had come to send the travelers on their way. A few younger dwarfs of the population had joined as well, friends of Sigurd and Thyra. Although perhaps more so Sigurd's friends, than Thyra's.

The company was dispersed among the crowd. Bilbo was speaking with a fellow halfling as they exchanged goodbyes and mutual wantings of a good pouchful of the longbottom leaf. Bofur and Bifur where carefully handing out a few crafted toys to the small group of children that lived within the camp. Bombur was swapping recipes with the head chef and the others of the company were either gathered together in wait for the rest to finish their goodbyes or saying goodbye themselves.

Fili and Kili stood together with the group ready to depart as they watched the two newest additions to their traveling group speaking with a handful of young dwarves. Kili watched closely as Sigurd shyly smiled and gave each of them a hug, a twinge of jealousy surged through his mind as he watched her wrap her arms around each of them in turn.

He knew he should not be harboring such feelings, nor should he be acting upon them. He had done his best in the past few days to keep things strictly on a friendly level as he knew he fell in love often and easily. It was for this reason he told himself not to act on what he felt. But as the days went on and he got to know Sigurd even more, he found it harder than he thought possible.

There was something different about this time around. Something that made it incredibly difficult to ignore or minimize the magnitude his feelings. He had done it in the past with other dwarrowmaids and any time he did this it was easy to see he was only being blinded by his fickle heart.

But his efforts had no results this time around. The first time he saw Sigurd he had been smitten. Unfortunately, over the past few days, there was something that Kili had learned about Sigurd. The fact was, that every male their age seemed to be smitten by her. There was something about her gentleness that seemed to cause them to all be magnetized to her. Thus was the result of the handful of young males wishing her farewell and leaving Kili feeling that he had a better chance in wooing Thyra than her did Sigurd.

In an attempt to lessen the green monster of jealousy, he averted his eyes and tried to focus somewhere else. He looked to his brother for distraction but found that Fili was already preoccupied with observing something else and by the looks of it, it was something that was not of his approval. He followed his line of sight and was not surprised when he found himself looking at Thyra.

She was off to the side with a young male that was perhaps a few years older than Fili. She leaned casually against a tree with a bored expression on her face as she looked out into the direction of where their journey would take them. The dwarf, a brown haired and honey eyed warrior, had one arm extended out above her head as he supported himself over the maiden.

Thyra's dark eyes cooly took in the rolling hills and clear sky as she gave the terrain before her more attention than the man standing over her. When the males other hand moved up to caress the exposed skin of her upper arm, the Régínn finally pulled her attention away from the landscape to look up at him. A lewd smirk came to the male's face as he leaned in and whispered something into her ear. He then slowly pulled away but not before grazing his lips slowly along the skin beneath her ear lobe.

Kili watched as Thyra closed her eyes for a moment as his lips lingered against her skin before pulling away. He was not sure if it was in pleasure or disgust but when her eyes finally opened they were sharp as she looked up at him and replied. Her words were too quiet to be heard but whatever was said seemed to not please the man that she had directed them to.

Kili watched as the man let out a huff as he pushed off from the tree. He muttered something back to her but again it was too low for Kili to make out. He felt as if he should look away as this was obviously some kind of lovers spat, but the oddity of the situation was all too intriguing.

If Kili was correct in his assumption, Thyra had some sort of relationship with the man. It was a strange concept to think for a couple of reasons. The first being her young age and the second being...well...it was Thrya. She did not exactly exude the personality that could harbor romance.

He watched on as they continued to exchange words.

The man's face was turning red with anger while Thyra remained calm and composed. Her attention seeming to only be halfway attentive to the conversation. The burnett male threw his hands in the air and stalked off. Thyra rolled her eyes as she looked away from his retreating back then pushed off from the tree as she began to join the rest of the company where they were finishing their farewells.

* * *

The time had come that they set off. And they gathered their packs and the few ponies given to them to carry extra supplies, Thorin found himself looking around expectantly before they began their trek. His blue eyes found what they were looking for when he caught sight of Asha walking towards him after having just finished speaking privately with Thyra.

As she came to a stop she held out her hand.

"I believe these have served their purpose. I think they should be returned to their rightful carrier."

Thorin opened his hand and he watched as she deposited the stone and letter into his waiting hand.

"Thank you," he said quietly as he gripped them tightly in his hand, cherishing the comforting feel of the items against his skin.

She nodded and they each spent a quiet moment looking down at the two items gripped in his hand. When there was a sound of Dwalin clearing his throat they were each broken from the shared moment as they each looked to the large dwarf who gave a gesture that it was time to go.

Thorin nodded and turned back around to face Asha. He knew it was time to say goodbye but it did not seem enough. A lot had changed in the past few days and while it felt good, he did not know what to make of the development between them. Understanding came to her face as if she too knew what he felt. She gave him a nod and a smile and Thorin reciprocated the same gestures as he turned around and began to join the others.

He had only made it a short distance when he heard his name being called out by her. He turned around to see her open her mouth then close it. Her fingers twisted together as she bit her lip and tried to construct her thoughts into words.

"There is...I," she faltered then finally lifted her hazel orbs to meet his blue. "Be careful," she finally settled with.

He could tell there was something she was withholding but it was not the time to try and force it. Instead he nodded and gave her a reassuring smile.

"I will see you in a few months," he assured her with confidence before turning around and joining the rest of the group.

* * *

"You did not tell him, did you?" Came Habard's voice.

Asha let out a sigh from her spot as she watched the troop begin to disappear behind the horizon.

"No," she admitted. "It just never felt like the right time."

Habard let out a small sound of disapproval causing Asha to look at him with a questioning expression.

"If you were waiting for the right time that was about a year over a century ago," he said. "He has a right to know."

"I know that," she said, a bit more defensive than she meant but Habard seemed to not be affected by it. Her shoulders slumped. "When this is all over, then I will introduce him to Thrade. But until then...we have other things to focus on."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The Son Encounter: Part I

"Oh blast it all," Bilbo grumbled under his breath, causing the few walking near him to look his way.

"What troubles you?" Sigurd asked from where she and Thyra followed behind him.

"Oh I lost several of the buttons from my waist coat when we escaped the goblins. Only two of them managed to stay on by a few loose threads. I meant to mend them before we left since they still held the coat closed enough to function but I forgot," he explained. "Now I have gone and lost one and even if I mend the remaining one it is just not enough to keep the thing closed."

Having grown accustomed to the hobbits need for certain civilized things, the majority of the group only rolled their eyes. But Sigurd, the ever sympathetic one, gave him a compassionate expression before vocalizing a wish that she had an extra button to spare.

After giving her an appreciative nod, Bilbo politely assured her he would be fine. But despite his words of assurance, it was still visible on his face that things were still not well with him.

As the day went on, the hobbit continued to constantly pull at his waist coat as if one of the times he yanked on it, it would magically stay shut. But each time, to his discouragement, the article of clothing sprang open and by the end of the day, the final button had come fully off.

Later in the evening in the dim light of the night, Fili watched as Bilbo struggled to sew the button back in a way that would hold the waist coat closed enough to function properly.

Fili felt his eyelids droop and was about to turn in for the night when he caught sight of Thyra approaching the small halfling. He had not seen much of her that day as she had only traveled with them for a short hour in the morning before breaking from the group to scout ahead.

It was not often that the Régínn went out of her way to interact with anyone aside from Sigurd. Curious as to why she was approaching the hobbit, he watched closely.

When she was two steps away, Thyra stopped and crouched down before the struggling halfling. With slow movements, she stretched out a fisted hand and then uncurled her fingers, palm up. The dim light made it difficult to make out but within her palm lay four round objects.

At first Fiki thought they were stones, but before he could even fathom why Thyra would offer Bilbo stones, he realized the were not stones but buttons.

Hesitantly Bilbo held out his hand and to Fili's surprise, Thyra deposited four pewter buttons into his hand. As soon as the last button was free from her hand, Thyra stood up and moved to leave for her bed roll but paused when Bilbo spoke. They were only a few yards away but in the lateness of the night, they spoke quietly as several were already asleep. Due to their hushed tones, Fili found himself straining to hear them.

"Thank you," Bilbo said.

Thyra shook her head.

"No thanks. Luck came upon you today. I found them."

A perplexed expression came to Bilbo's face but he did not question it. He only nodded.

"Thank you all the same," he said lifting the hand holding the buttons, "for saving them for me."

Thyra shrugged but said nothing else as she walked away.

Fili watched her in confusion and disbelief. He failed to believe the coincidence of her just happening to find four buttons in terra nullius lands. But the effort to solve the mystery was dwarfed by his need to sleep and he quickly laid down his head and abruptly succumbed to a dreamless rest.

* * *

Thyra was standing to the side of the hobbit as she watched him practice simple parrys and blocks with his small sword. He thrust his arm forward and Thyra shook her head as she said something to him. Fili watched Bilbo as he dropped his arm to his side and looked ashamed. Thyra gave no regard to his shamed face as she moved in front of him, pulling out a dagger.

She motioned for him to attack and he thrust forward. With ease she raised her dagger up and blocked his blow. As the two weapons clashed together, Thyra pushed slightly forward and Bilbo fell backwards onto the ground, losing his grip on his sword. As the cloud of dust from his fall began to settle, Thyra reached down and roughly pulled him to his feet. As he brushed himself off, she walked over to retrieve his sword. After handing Bilbo back his sword, Thyra took a stance before him.

"Again," she said flatly.

With slight hesitation, Bilbo moved forward. It was with poor technique and it took Thyra little effort to disarm the hobbit again. To add emphasis to his failure, she sent a forceful kick to his chest. Bilbo fell backwards again and grunted as the breath left his lungs. When the dust settled from his fall, he was found gasping deeply as he held a hand to his chest.

Thyra shook her head and let out an annoyed grunt as she stomped over to him after retrieving his sword again. Pulling him up none too gracefully. She shoved the hilt of his sall sword into his hand and squeezed his hands around the metal handle.

"You hold or you die," she said instructively. "Tighter grip."

Stepping back she took a stance.

"Again," she demanded.

Bilbo took in a breath and tightened his hold, determination written upon his face as he looked at Thyra. Without warning she attacked, striking out forcefully and causing his arm to move to the side. It left him defenseless but he still held tightly onto his sword. A satisfied smile came to Thyra's face as she lowered her own sword and paused to nod her approval. Then, without a word, she swept her foot out and tripped his feet out from under him. Like every other time before, Bilbo fell onto the ground with a hard thud.

As he lay flat on his back she peered down at him with disapproval.

"You die if you can't stay up," she reprimanded. "Get up," she added gruffly over her shoulder, not offering any help this time as circled around him.

Bilbo weakly stood up. Wincing as his bruised back straightened.

Instead of taking an attacking stance before him, she came to his side and instructed him to attack the open space in front of him. Bilbo had made it halfway through his movements when Thyra called out.

"Stop," she commanded.

Bilbo froze with his arm held out in mid air.

"That will get you killed."

Bilbo looked at her. Thyra moved to him and adjusted his shoulders, straightening them back. Then she moved to his legs, kicking them farther apart and moving his left foot a few inches back. She then moved to his arm and lifted it. As she moved his arm she twisted his hand slightly so blade of his sword was angled across his chest instead of parallel with his body.

Thyra stepped back and nodded at his position. She pulled out her knife again and placed it against his blade as if they had been sparing. She gave a push and while he was forced to slightly lean back, his feet stayed firmly in place.

"Remember that position," she instructed. "You will live longer."

Without another word, she walked away towards the river where Fili had just come from. As she neared him, he pushed himself off from the tree he was leaning on and stood at the edge of the path.

"Don't you think you were being a little hard on him?"

She glanced at him as she walked by.

"No," she said flatly before walking on.

Fili frowned and followed after her.

"He is not a fighter," he commented once caught up with her quick pace. "You didn't have to push him to the ground when he didn't know any better. Wouldn't simply correcting him in his stance be better than shoving him?"

She looked over her shoulder, surprised and annoyed to find him following after her.

"I did correct him," she retorted as he caught up with her and matched her pace.

"Not until after you pushed him," Fili pointed out.

"He needed to know what would happen so that next time it happens he won't be startled."

Fili looked at her inquisitively.

"I still don't don't understand why you could not have just told him what would happen and then correct him. You're just bullying him and making him lose confidence in himself by throwing him to the ground."

Thyra stopped walking and turned to face him. Fili stopped as well and watched her, his brow raised as he waited for her reply. He could tell he was getting under her skin but it was a mutual occurrence. She let out an annoyed sigh and looked at him thoughtfully as she folded her arms to her chest.

"Have you ever fallen down during a fight?"

"Of course, no one is perfect," he answered, not sure of where she was going with her question.

"What did you do when you fell?"

"I rolled out of the way and got back into my feet?"

"Why?"

Fili's forehead creased as he looked at her. "Because that is what...I was...trained...to do."

His words slowed down as her reasoning finally began to make sense

Thyra smirked as she caught the clarity come to Fili's face.

"Exactly," her thick accented voice was drenched with a smug tone that made Fili suddenly bristle.

"That still does not mean you have to be so hard on him."

He saw her arm raise as she ran a hand over her face and let out a groan. He heard a string of Régínn curses fall from her mouth that were becoming familiar as their days of traveling together increased. As the words ran out, she turned back around to face him.

"Why not?" she managed. "It is how I trained, it is how you trained. Why should he be different."

"Because I was trained to be a warrior," he stated matter of factly. "You obviously were trained to be a warrior, a protector of your people."

Thyra flinched at his words. It was but a fleeting moment that Fili barely caught. Had he blinked, Fili would have missed it. Before he could process it, she was speaking and his mind moved on with the conversation.

"I fail to see your point."

"Bilbo is a creature of habit that enjoys preserving his gardens harvest and laying doilies on his tables," Fili stated in frustration before adding, "he is not a warrior!"

"Not yet," Thyra corrected. "Perhaps never, but all the more reason. You should know this Feelig if you are to be king. You cannot be blinded by assumption. You have to see what can be created, not what is already there."

Fili's eyes narrowed.

"My name," he hissed, "is FILI."

Thyra's dark eyes gleamed mirthfully as she gave him a smug look as she walked away without another word.

Fili watched her back as her sword thumped against a small pouch that was slung across her shoulder. He had not noticed it before and would not have paid it any attention now had it not been for the pewter button that held the main flap closed.

It was the same design and size as the four buttons that now adorned Bilbo's waist coat. He took in the rest of the bag. Small pockets, two in the front and one on each side accented the bag. However, unlike the largest pocket, tied pieces of string looped through the buttonholes were what kept the contents within from falling out. Suddenly Fili put two and two together.

"I thought you said you found those buttons?" Fili called out to her back.

Thyra barely faltered in step before continuing on and ignored his question.

* * *

"Well that did not last very long?" Kili said as he and Sigurd watched Fili follow after Thyra who continued to disregard his questioning words.

Sigurd let out a sigh as she shifted her armful if collected firewood.

"And here I thought things were going so well."

It was true. Things had been going well for the past few days.

Ever since their water fight at the river six days ago, the tension that was usually between Thyra and Fili seemed to have thinned and calmed. Then again, ever since they restarted their journey eastward, the two of them had not spent enough time together to find a disagreement.

Thyra spent most of their days either far ahead of the group, scouting out their path, or far behind, hiding their tracks. She had an endurance none of them could keep up with so Thorin utilized it by having her travel back and forth. Only a couple times a day would they see her when she would report and move on.

In an effort to make up for lost time, Thorin had pushed them hard and long since departing from the guild. As a result, they rose before the sun and made camp late into the night. Being exhausted from the rigorous journeyings, everyone went to bed following a hurried supper that left little time to interact.

Today had been the first day Thorin had allowed them to cut their travels short and make camp in the late afternoon.

For the first time they had time to relax and interact.

While it was good for the group to recuperate, it was now proving that it had one flaw. It seemed that the contention between Thyra and Fili had not been resolved but instead it had only been dormant over the past days. And now, with time to relax and think of things other than aching feet, sleep depravity, and weary muscles, they had gone back to their old ways.

Thyra would do something that was categorized as unacceptable to Fili, he would confront her about it, and she would ignore it. One would think this is where it would end, but it only seemed to fuel the flames of Fili's motivation to confront her.

"I just don't understand why he cannot let it go," Kili pondered aloud. "It is not like him to intentionally provoke anyone."

"Maybe he does not realize he is doing it?" Sigurd suggested. "Thyra has a gift of getting people to act differently around her."

Kili could not deny truth in her words. He had seen it happen with Sigurd and a few others in the company, one of them being Dwalin. He had even noticed Thorin act strangely with her as well. But despite the evidence, he could not fathom Fili being susceptible to it. Fili had always been one of integrity and part of that integrity was civility towards others, no matter who they were.

"I don't know," he sighed. "Fili has always been diplomatic in his dealings with others. I cannot recall a time he ever antagonized someone. Intentional or accidental. He will disagree with other people's beliefs and thoughts, but I have never seen him actually try and provoke the disagreement. He has this way of charming people. Everyone always likes him and looks up to him. That is how he has always been all through growing up and even now." A grimness came to his lips. "Well at least that was how he has been until a few months ago when we first met you two."

"Not that it has anything with you," he quickly added before she could take offense. "It would be impossible for someone to dislike you."

As he said this, Kili looked over to her just in time to see her face suddenly change. Her usually bright blue eyes dimmed to a navy hue as she lowered them and looked down at the ground.

"Not everyone," she said so lowly that Kili had to rely on reading her lips in order to make out her words.

Seeing her with such sorrow written on her face caused Kili's chest to ache with his own sadness. He had never seen such pain nor did he want to ever see such a thing on her face ever again. Instinct told him that whatever caused the change, it had something to do with someone in her past. Not wanting to pry into her personal life, but not wanting to see her so upset for a moment longer, Kili instantly moved without thinking.

"Hey, hey," he said quickly as he dropped his firewood so that he could grab her shoulders and turn her to face him directly.

When her eyes still remained on the ground, downcast and avoiding, he gently grasped her chin and tilted it up until she finally met his eye.

"There is nothing about you that a person would not like. No matter what you think or how a person may act towards you, I can promise you that they only act that way because they are blinded by the darkness of their own lives. It has nothing to do with you."

He was not sure where the words had come from nor why he said them. Wherever the inspiration had come from he was grateful he followed his instinct.

It was slow at first, as if it took her a moment to process and apply his words, but eventually the dimness faded and she gave him a small grateful nod. Pleased with his results, Kili retrieved his discarded firewood and together they went about their work.

They continued making their way through the forest, occasionally stopping for one of them to pick up a fallen branch and add it to their collection. As they continued their work, a happy companionship had fallen between them while they each let their earlier ponderings of Thyra's and Fili's contentions drift away and they moved on to other more jovial topics.

* * *

He could have let it go. He should have let it go. But for some unknown reason, Fili found himself following after Thyra.

He had promised himself when Thorin informed the group that Thyra and Sigurd would be joining them in their journey, he would not let his personal issues get in the way of their quest. And for the past near week's time, he had done that. But then again, his time with Thyra had been limited and monitored. Now he found himself following her to Mahal knows where into the woods as she continued to scout the perimeter and ignore his vying command of her attention.

Suddenly after a good fifteen minutes of pursuit, Thyra stopped at the small ridge of an embankment. At first Fili thought she was finally going to acknowledge him but that was quickly disproved as her dark eyes grazed out across the woodlands and he was bluntly ignored.

"You know it's usually decor–"

He was cut of when Thyra suddenly planted a firm hand to his mouth and pulled him down next to a tree. His back hit the bark, scratching at his arms as Thyra pressed next to him. Her eyes darted around and only moved to him when he let out a muffled protest.

Instantly her hand on his mouth pressed more firmly and her dark eyes looked at him warningly. The moment her hand went to her lips, he knew something was wrong. He stilled himself and tried to ignore their close proximity as Thyra went back to scanning the area with her sharp eyes.

All was silent and Fili was just about to question her when she suddenly let out a sharp whistle that mimicked a bird. As the sound echoed and died she waited one moment and whistled again, this time two quick chirps.

As Fili prepared to ask her what she was doing as she was giving away their position, a whistle coming from the south, followed by two quick chirps sounded. At the second chirp, Thyra moved quietly, her hand clamping around Fili's arm as she dragged him stealthily through the underbrush.

They came to an abrupt stop just before the foliage grew thicker and used the barrier of a fallen tree as coverage. Thyra carefully withdrew her sword from its place on her back and Fili suddenly cursed himself for following her with only a few daggers in his possession. He wasn't sure what had alarmed Thyra, but despite his unwillingness to trust her, he knew he could depend on her awareness. It was just a matter of what she was aware of that puzzled him.

Was it friend or foe?

There was a rustling and Thyra carefully peeked around the trees uprooted tendrils that hid them from view. Fili did the same just in time to see a dwarf cautiously walk out of the brush.

It was obvious he was doing his best to go undetected as he kept a sharp eye moving around but it was apparent that he had still yet to detect them. As he was about to step close enough to put them in his line of vision, Thyra moved her sword up, causing the male to stop abruptly as his eyes widened with surprise and his arms instinctively went up in surrender. She stepped out carefully, keeping her sword against the exposed skin of his neck as she revealed herself to him.

Fili watched from where he remained hidden as the males hazel eyes followed the swords razor edge to take in his captors face. The moment he looked into her face, recognition came to his face and his arms fell to his side as he relaxed.

"Mahal Thyra," he said in a deep baritone. "When I didn't hear a response call from my whistle I thought it was some sort of enemy trick. Shit, I thought you were an orc!"

Thyra sent him a smirk as she let her sword fall from his throat and returned it to its place on her back.

"Your mother will not like such words coming from your mouth," she said in what could have passed as a teasing manner. "She say you spend too much time with Habard."

Fili watched as the man gave her a grin that was eerily familiar but he could not place why. The stranger was taller than him, closer to his brother in height, than himself. With raven black hair tied back into a knot and a thick, but well trimmed beard to match. He was near his own age, perhaps a decade or two older.

Seeing that he was familiar with Thyra, and judging from the mention of Habard, the guild as well, Fili moved from his hidden space to stand next to Thyra. His earlier concern of being too close to her was somehow gone as he stood just far enough to leave a small space or air between their arms.

His movement caused the hazel eyed dwarf to move his amused attention from Thyra to Fili. Upon seeing him, his smile slightly faltered as his brow creased in slight confusion and something else that Fili assumed was possible defense.

The dark haired dwarf let his gaze run down Fili and he felt the man size him up before meeting his eye for a brief moment. Fili watched as the dwarf's eyes finished assessing him then moved back to Thyra quizzically.

"New recruit?" The man asked her. "Since when did you start traveling with newcomers?"

Fili was as not sure, but he thought he sensed a hint of jealousy in the man's voice as he questioned her.

"He is not new," she answered. "We are helping Thorin Oakenshield reclaim Erebor. This is his eldest nephew, there are thirteen other dwarves, gandalf, and a hobbit in the group. The guild travels north to meet us while Siggy and I go east through Mirkwood with them."

Her answer seemed to relax him as he looked back to Fili, a renewed, less threatened expression on his face. He stuck out his hand with a more open expression on his face.

"Prince Fili, I presume," the man said. "I have heard tales of your family. Your uncle especially, I have somewhat idolized him since I was a lad. I loved hearing stories of how he came to earn the name Oakenshield."

Fili nodded and slowly clasped his hand with the dark haired dwarf's, his grip tightening perhaps more than custom would call for but the man showed no acknowledgement to the extra strength.

"It is always a pleasure to meet someone who speaks highly of my family," Fili replied. "May I ask who you are?"

"I am Thrade," he answered. "I believe you met my mother, Asha?"

* * *

After their introduction, and he had recovered from the surprise fact that Asha had a son, Fili watched as Thrade moved his attention back to Thyra. He took in the blemishes and injuries that had still yet to heal. Bringing a hand to Thyra's face, Thrade grazed his knuckles across her bruised cheek as his eyes ran across her forehead to take in the large scab and purple, fading to green, bruise that surrounded it.

Fili's eyes narrowed and he could not help but disapprove of the gesture. It seemed too intimate and he felt Thrade should not be touching her in such a way. It was the caress that a dwarf would share with someone they showed affection for. And from what he had witnessed on the day of their departure, it seemed Thyra already had someone in which she shared affections, which rendered these actions even more inappropriate. In his opinion, Thyra was much too young to be receiving such affections...from anyone.

But what bothered him the most is that Thyra did not say anything to correct his inappropriate gesture. The only action she made was take a small step back to break the contact, but no words fell from her mouth. Fili frowned, she had at least said something to reprimand the man from the day of departure, so why was Thrade exempted from this same treatment? This only caused him to frown even more in disapproval.

The moment she stepped from his reach, Fili noticed Thrade's jaw tighten and he could not help but feel a small twinge of satisfaction of the rejection. It was a satisfaction that he justified with the fact that it had been an inappropriate gesture in social terms and that he was merely happy that propriety had been restored.

"Did that happen while returning with my mother?" he asked Thyra directly.

Thyra shook her head.

"Duel ring."

Thrade frowned.

"Again? Who was it this time? Meldrone? Farlin?"

Thyra rolled her eyes at the stern tone of his voice. "Asha made a wager with Thorin. I dueled one of his people."

With that, Thrade's eyes flashed accusingly at Fili.

"Where you the one she dueled?" he accused.

A snort sounded from Thyra causing both males to look at her.

"Feelig was not the one," Thyra answered. "You will know who it was when you see him, I left my own marks."

"Feelig?" Thrade asked in confusion looking to Fili. "I thought it was Fili."

"It is Fili," Fili confirmed, causing Thrade to look back to Thyra who only shrugged.

Again Thrade's hand went to Thyra's face, his hand taking her chin. He began tilting and moving her head to examine the bruises from different angles.

"They sure did a number on you. Since when did you start losing to other people in the ring?"

His tone was light but Fili could sense there was a deeper tone of concern he was attempting to conceal.

Thyra glared at him before she pushed his hand away from her face.

"I didn't," she mumbled lowly.

Thrade kept his gaze locked on Thyra as an affectionate, soft smile adorned his face.

"Of course you didn't. You can take care of yourself."

Fili did not miss the tone in which Thrade spoke. It was full of a strange sadness that did not seem to match the conversation. After Thrade received no response from Thyra and an awkward silence fell over them, Thrade seemed to realize that Fili was with them and watching their interaction closely.

He cleared his throat.

"Anyways," Thrade began as he looked between the two, "how exactly did the Guild end up being in service?"

"Long story," Thyra said, turning around and beginning to head in the direction of camp. "Come, Feelig can tell on the way."

Both men looked at each other and as they locked eyes there was a silent exchange of understanding. The two had a mutual dislike for each other.

However, despite Fili's feelings, he at least found it in himself to begin offering an explanation as they each followed after the wheat haired maiden. He was happy to find that he was able to easily cooperate with Thrade, no matter what is disapproval of the man's actions towards Thyra may be.

Fili had almost been concerned that his ability to easily work with others, no matter his personal opinion had been ruined. But it seemed that his discourteous behavior would remain reserved for Thyra and Thyra alone.

. . . . . . . . . . . .


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: The Son Encounter: Part II

The sounds of camp echoed through the woods growing louder as they neared. Thyra broke into the secured area first, followed by Fili, then Thrade. At first the group only spared a quick glance when the first two arrived but upon the third person's entrance, several did a double take as the camp suddenly grew silent. Fili looked around and saw Balin, Dwalin, Dori, as well as a few others of the older generation not just looking in their direction, but gapping with wide eyes in the direction just past his left shoulder where Thrade was standing.

Fili glanced to his uncle to find that he, while not gaping like the others, was still looking at Thrade with a strange expression on his face. The once bustling camp had grown silent as all all eyes stared at Thrade.

Fili caught sight of Kili standing beside a crouched Sigurd looking at him with a questioning look. Not knowing how to convey an explanation, Fili merely shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

Sigurd, who had yet to notice their arrival, suddenly became aware of the change of atmosphere and Kili's distracted attention. She turned slowly from her crouched position, her blue eyes taking in Thyra and Fili first then they finally landed on Thrade.

Her face of curiosity quickly morphed into one of pure excitement. Fili could only compare it to the handful of times he had witnessed the famed fireworks that Gandalf would set off on the rare occasions he joined them during any festivals. Her bright eyes became impossibly brighter as her entire face lit up. A gasp fell from her lips followed by a gleeful shriek as her mouth grew into a joyful grin.

"Thrade!" She exclaimed as she bounced up and skipped over to him, leaving Kili alone with a taken aback look.

Her ecstatic sound seemed to dispel the other shocked dwarves from their riveted stares as the dwarrowmaid bound up to the new arrival and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. Thrade returned the hug awkwardly, his eyes dancing to Thyra for a moment before he ended the hug and gently put some space between them. He took a step back to look down at Sigurd. With his hands on her shoulders he gave her a smile that reminded Fili of the one he used to give his brother when they were younger.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him as she eyed him up and down for any sign of injuries.

Before he could answer her, Thorin's voice sounded in a curious query.

"Fili who is this?"

Fili turned to see his uncle looking at him expectantly. Unsure of how to answer he pointed to Thyra for him to direct his question towards. Thorin looked to Thyra but Thrade spoke up for himself before Thorin could repeat his inquiry to Thyra.

"Lord Thorin," Thrade said respectfully. "I apologize for not introducing myself immediately to you. But it is my understanding that the Guild is working with you."

Thorin looked at the young dwarf as he spoke. When Thorin finally managed to nod his head, Thrade took a step forward and offered a hand.

"My name is Thrade, son of Asha, who is the leader of the Guild of the Lost."

Thorin's stomach dropped at the boys words.

 _Asha has a son._

It was the only thing he gained from the information provided him. He could see Thrade's lips continue to move but he heard nothing of what the young dwarf was telling him past the revelation of his heritage.

Thorin's eyes lost focus of his surroundings until all he could see was Thrade's face as he stared at it. He took in the young man's physiognomy, marking every facial feature and comparing it with Asha's. He was looking for confirmation that what Thrade was telling him was the truth, unsure of if he wanted to find it to be true or not.

He did not find many, and the few he found where not a complete match or too general to be distinctive of Asha. That is, until he looked into his eyes. The Brimir family was notorious for their varying hazel eyes, but Thrade's where unmistakably familiar and unique to only one other. As Thorin took in the predominantly green irises that faded into brown near the pupils and the small flecks of gold near the outer edges, there was no mistaking it. Thrade was Asha's son.

 _Asha has a son._

The thought repeated in his head, echoing loudly until all other sounds became muffled white noise.

 _Asha has a son._

 _Why did she not tell him?_

 _Asha has a son._

 _And with whom?_

Thorin was brought back to reality when Balin took a step forward and cleared his throat.

Thorin blinked as he jolted from his trance, only to be greeted with a nervous looking Thrade. He was shifting on his feet as he looked anxiously at Thorin, his eyes occasionally darting to Balin as if looking for inspiration for what was wrong. It reminded Thorin of a young child who was still learning proper etiquette and was unsure of what they had done was correct or not.

Thorin cleared his throat in an effort to cover up his uneasiness and held out a hand. With his once foggy mind now clear enough he took the opportunity to take in the boy, neigh the man before him. This time instead of focusing on his physical appearance, he focused on his conduct.

Looking like a child who had just been offered candy, Thrade eagerly grasped his hand and gave him a firm shake as he straightened his back in his best posture.

"I did not realize Asha had a son," he admitted before forcing an unsure smile on his face. "However, I cannot think of anyone who would be more honorable to be born to."

Thrade's mouth split into a smile as his hazel eyes shone with pride.

"It is an honor to meet you sir," Thrade said in slight awe.

Thorin could not help but let his smile become more genuine. Although Thrade was well into manhood, he still had the eagerness and heart of a young boy.

"Please, call me Thorin," he said then looked around to the group. "I suppose after the hospitality your mother showed us, and the favor she is doing, it would be impolite to not invite you to join us for supper and perhaps stay the night with us?"

At his words Thrade's eyes brightened even more as he nodded and said he will go retrieve his belongings and then return. At this, Sigurd was quick to announce that she would help him but after being reassured that he would be in no need of help and only be but a few minutes, he went on his way alone.

* * *

As promised, Thrade was only gone for a few minutes before he came back with his pack. Seeing Thorin speaking with some of the others, he settled down with Thyra and Sigurd where they sat with the other younger generation of the company.

As supper was prepared and passed around, the two princes, both with hidden agendas, took advantage of the conversation to get to know this new face and his relationship with the newest additions of their travel companions.

Kili watched Thrade carefully and with conflicting emotions. Despite his elder years, he easily mingled with them without showing any superiority. He had nearly twenty years seniority on Fili who was the closest in age to him but after so many years of such an unconventional upbringing, he had a younger, more wild maturity than others Kili knew back in his homeland. However it was still obvious that, like Sigurd, he had been raised by Asha to have good manners and positive social etiquette. Easily opening up and carrying on good conversation full of humor and intrigue, Kili had a hard time finding any flaws within the man.

In fact, Kili could not find even one flaw within him. But despite this, Kili could not help but find one thing about him that he did not like. And that reason had nothing to do with his character or countenance. The reason was the plain and simple fact that he captivated Sigurd's undivided attention. And it was for that reason, Kili held a slight resentment towards the man. His rational mind told him it was a bit unfair, but he could not help it. The green monster of jealousy roared louder than the quiet whispers of his conscience.

"Thrade," called Sigurd in a tone of curiosity. "Why are you here? Where is everyone else?"

Thrade's warm eyes settled on Sigurd.

"We finished things more quickly than expected. The orcs were more of a pack than the herd we had been told about. I was scouting back to make sure we were not being followed when there was a bad storm. There was some flooding on the Anduin river so I had to take a later crossing than the rest of the group. I figured I would take a shortcut in hopes to meet up with them before I hit the foothills. I thought I had but it turned out to be Thyra here. From there you know the rest," he explained as he settled his eyes on Thyra.

"Oh," Sigurd nodded. "How were the brown lands?"

Thrade shrugged.

"Same waste land as usual. Wild men ravaging the countryside. Orcs lurking in its shadows." As if he suddenly recalled something, Thrade suddenly sat up straight and grabbed for his bag. "That reminds me," he said while pulling something from his pack. "This is for you."

Kili watched as Thrade pulled a small pouch from his belongings and handed it to Sigurd. Instantly her blue eyes lit up with curiosity as she went to work untying the draw strings and peeked in. Curiosity turned to excitement as she recognized its contents. Reaching into the bag Kili watched as Sigurd eagerly pulled out a bundle of herbs from within the canvas.

Kili frowned, _what is so impressive about a clump of wilted weeds?_

Despite Kili's lowly opinion of the gift, Sigurd let out a happy cheer.

"This is perfect I just used the last of it with Thyra's bruises but ran out, otherwise they would be farther in their healing."

She beamed up at Thrade who placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair fondly. Sigurd quickly pushed his hand away and tried to detangle her short strands as her face burned red.

Fili watched Sigurd struggle to recover from her blush but was distracted when he heard his brother grumbled something under his breath about weeds. He glanced towards his brother from the corner of his eye to catch Kili's lips turn down into a pout.

He did his best to not let out a weary sigh himself as he watched Sigurd interacting with Thrade. Fili had feared this would happen. His brother had again become attached to a girl who obviously did not share the same type of affections. In the past week he thought there was a possibility his brother could finally find a lass that shared mutual feelings but now…

He realized he was sorely mistaken in this. It was blatantly clear that Sigurd was in love with Thrade and if she was not in love, she was most certainly infatuated with him.

Speaking of the man, Fili looked over to the dark haired dwarf as he began rummaging in his bag again. After a moment of searching he procured a small wooden box.

"And this," he said turning to Thyra and handing out the small box, "is for you."

Thyra looked at the box being held out to her with uncertainty. When Thrade held it out a little further in silent encouragement, she slowly grabbed the box and brought it to her lap as her fingers traced around the simple rounded edges. Fili watched as her dark irises glanced at Thrade from the corner of her eye as he watched her intently. Pursing her lips, she slowly opened the lid and stared down.

The moment her dark eyes caught sight of its contents Fili noticed Thrade's body go still as she stared down at the boxes contents. Even Fili felt himself anticipating her reaction as the time ticked by and she continued to stare down.

Finally, after nearly a whole minute of suspense, the corner of her mouth curved into a small smile as reached in and pulled out a green pastel stick. Taking in its color she set it carefully back in before pulling out a shade of deep purple. After examining the rest of the assortment of colors, she closed the lid and looked up from the box to give Thrade a small nod. Fili was not sure what Thrade had expected from her, but he could tell that while he was pleased with her response, he was still slightly disappointed with the lack of reaction.

However, despite this, Fili felt as though her movements spoke volumes. While it was obvious that Thrade was hoping for more of a reaction similar to Sigurd's, Fili felt that a small smile and nod was the equivalent to that in Thyra's book. Then again, he did not know much about her. And he certainly knew even less about Thrade. So maybe he was mistaken.

Fili frowned. He did not like traveling with so many unknown people.

Back home he always made it a point to know as many of the population on a personal level. The closer and more frequent he saw them, the better he wanted to be acquainted. In retrospect, he had been with Thyra for just shy of two weeks time and had gained hardly any knowledge of her except her seemingly, purposeful knack to get under his skin.

* * *

Dwalin sat down next to Thorin and gave him a look.

"What?" Thorin asked.

Dwalin nodded to where Thrade was sitting with the small group of younger dwarves.

"You don't see it?"

"See what?"

Dwalin shifted and looked to Balin then Oín and then Dori in search of support. The four of them exchanged looks and Dori shifted himself to face Thorin more directly as he cleared his throat.

"Is there perhaps any chance that…" his tone was diplomatic but Thorin could tell that he was uneasy with addressing whatever issue both he and Dwalin seemed to be seeing that he was missing.

"Spit it out," Thorin growled after becoming annoyed with being left in the dark.

"Well, it's just that…" Oín tried in turn, only to falter like the two previous of him.

He then looked to Balin. And then Thorin looked to Balin as well, his eyes piercing him down and giving him no option to pass the torch onto someone else.

"We were just wondering…" Balin began. "And none of us would ever judge you," he quickly added, "but...by chance…you would not happen to have any unannounced children…would you?"

Thorin's brow creased in confusion.

"What? What are you–" he caught Dwalin's eyes dart to where Thrade sat and suddenly everything made sense. "Thrade is not my son. Why would you assume that? It's impossible."

"Well if I am completely honest the moment he stepped out of those bushes I thought we had gone back in time." Dwalin admitted. "He looks just like you when you where that age."

Thorin felt his face growing warm at their accusations. It was ridiculous.

"He is Asha's son," he said dully. "It's impossi–"

"Is it?" Interjected Dwalin. "You're saying that there is no chance he is yours? I overheard him talking to Ori, he is one and one hundred years. That puts him at just the right age of…"

Thorin shook his head.

"No. It's not possible."

"You're saying there's no chance, none at all." Dwalin pushed. "You and Asha never…"

As Dwalin drifted off he made a suggestive gesture with his hands that finished his thoughts. At his hand sign, Thorin's face turned crimson. He was not one to shy away from such talk in generality, but he was a private man when it came to his own personal intimacies.

"That is none of your business," Thorin growled. "I already saidー"

His mind faltered and Dwalin raised his brows.

It was obvious by the look on Dwalin's face that Thorin's lack of denial and adamant refusal to discuss such things only confirmed his ponderings. This only seemed to frustrate Thorin even more.

"We are done discussing this," Thorin muttered as he composed himself, not missing the exchanges of looks by those surrounding him.

The subject was immediately dropped and the conversation moved on to other topics. As things moved on, Thorin sat stoic and silent.

On the outside he looked calm and collected but on the inside, Thorin was in disarray. His mind was a blur. He did not know what to think. He had struggled enough keeping calm upon first meeting Thrade.

The surprise that Asha had a son and made no mention of it had taken him for a turn. But with time, as the night grew on, he rationalized that perhaps she had been worried about what he would do to a son of Ivor. _For who else could it have been?_ Did she think he would harm the boy? Did she think him so low? That he would go so far as to harm an innocent for another man's sins?

A flash of the last shared moment before both of their kingdom's downfalls played in his mind. He remembered standing beside his brother's lifeless body as the roar of his voice filled the air. He remember the look of fear and hurt written on her face. The promise he had made to her family.

Thorin shook his head internally. Of course she had been afraid.

However, did he not prove that he was at peace with their past now? He had finally come to terms with the idea of Asha having a son and then Dwalin destroyed all acceptance by one suggestion. The fact that he _possibly_ had a son. Not just a son, but a son by Asha.

Thorin shook his head and gazed out to Thrade who was currently speaking with Ori and Sigurd.

He could not deny the fact that he was familiar. Thorin himself thought for the briefest of moments that Ferin walked into their camp. So many people had always said that he and his brother could be assumed identical twins were it not for the age difference.

horin let his mind wander. Could it be possible?

 _No._

 _He is Ivor's_ , he told himself.

If he remembered correctly, Ivor had dark hair too. It was just a coincidence that they looked similar.

* * *

 _Don't let this be the end_

 _You are young and naive to think things will ever work out_

 _Thorin...please...I need to tell…_

 _...I will never let a drop of my blood be mixed with someone of the likes of you_

Thorin's eyes snapped open as he jolted awake. The last words reverberated in his mind. He took several breaths as he pushed the memories down into the dark hole from which they had crawled from and bring himself back to the present.

Eventually the repetitive chirp of crickets began to take over as the dying fire let out the occasional crack as it slowly lost its heat. Smoke mixed with the heavy scent of pine filled his senses, bringing more clarity as the warm summer breeze drifted through the slumbering camp.

Thorin's senses were on high alert as he took in every sound and smell that was registered by his olfactory and auditory senses. The more he distinguished, the more he became aware as his mind slowly began to process what he had been dreaming. Unable to ignore his restlessness, Thorin sat up and took in the still camp. Pale, silver light cut through the branches above, just enough to let him glance around at each individual.

His eyes landed upon Thrade who slept next to Sigurd and an empty bed roll where Thyra would be. It was earlier in the morning than he originally thought since Thyra was last watch for the night. As he let his eyes drift back to Thrade's form, his dream began to replay in his head.

 _Thorin...please...I need to tell…_

 _...I will never let a drop of my blood be mixed with someone of the likes of you_

The hurt in her eyes had been something that haunted him his entire life. And it seemed even now, that expression still haunted him.

His words had been said out of a hatred that he had long since let go. It was not easy, but after so many years of loss and hardship, Thorin had found there was not enough time in a person's life to hold onto a grudge that could never be rectified. But tonight it was not the last words he had uttered to her that haunted him. Instead it was hers.

 _Thorin...please...I need to tell…_

He had pondered many times what would come after those words had he not cut her off. His mind had developed hundreds of possible answers to follow those words but never, never in his life did he ever fathom the idea that she was going to tell him that she was pregnant.

 _...I will never let a drop of my blood be mixed with someone of the likes of you_

He shivered as his words played in his mind. If what the back of his mind was telling him to be true, those words gained far more acrimony than he had ever fathomed. The hairs on his arms stood up. It was no wonder Asha never made her survival known. And it was no wonder she had gone through such lengths to keep things hidden from him.

He looked away from the sleeping form of Thrade, not able to look at him as he thought of such things. With a quiet huff he quickly stood and made his way from the camp. He needed a place to think with a clear mind. He could not dwell on the past and what ifs. He needed facts that could guide him for the future.

He walked out towards the edge of their secured area until he caught sight of cross legged Thyra perched on the wide stump of a tree that had long since lost its top half during a long ago storm.

As always her posture was impeccable, and Thorin wondered how the girl managed it no matter what time of day, place, or occasion she was at. She did not look at him as he approached but he knew she was aware of his presence. She was always aware.

He came to a stop and leaned against the tall trunk, his head just barely reaching where her legs were folded beneath her as she sat on the mossy top of the stump. Minutes passed by and Thyra kept her eyes set on the dim darkness that surrounded them.

"You can go back to sleep Thyra," Thorin finally said, "sleep seems to be avoiding me tonight."

When she did not move Thorin looked up at her. Her face was still directed out to the dark abyss of the forest but he could see her eyelids closed in meditation while still keeping her ears alert for any signs of danger.

Not sure if she had heard him or not, he debated on repeating himself or not. But then her eyes slowly split open to look down at him. Avoiding her scrutiny, Thorin moved his eyes out to the wilderness as he debated and wondered.

He had many questions that needed answers. But how to get those answers was a puzzle to be solved.

Thrade had stated his parentage when he introduced himself. But it was only his maternal side he declared. Why did he leave out his father's line? Did he know of the history between Ivor and himself? Did he know of the rivalry between their families?

It seemed so ancient that he hardly believed it had once flourished in his younger years. And if not Ivor...if it was in fact ...Thorin shook his head in his musings then swallowed the lump in his throat. If he himself was Thrade's father, did Thrade know? And if so, how would Thorin bring such a topic up?

"He has not the knowledge that you seek," Thyra suddenly said, causing Thorin to suddenly look up as he snapped out of his internal debate.

"What answers?" He questioned as he wondered how Thyra seemed to so easily read a person's thoughts.

Her eyes were closed again but they cracked open to look at him from the corner of her eye at his question. As she surveyed him, she slowly turned her head as she tilted it to the side looking very much like a wisdomed owl perched in a tree above him.

"Thrade does not know who his father is." Thyra answered.

"He told you this?" He asked then a thought came across his mind. "Asha mentioned once that she confides with you. Did she ever–"

Thyra shook her head before he could finish asking her.

"No. She has never told me."

"But you know?"

"I have my assumptions," she clarified.

"Would you shed your observed wisdom upon me?"

She raised a brow as the angle of her head increased.

"I think you already know the answer to that question. Deep down. It is plain enough for any soul to see. The first time we met, I knew."

"But you do not know for sure," Thorin argued. "Asha has never confirmed it."

Thyra looked out to the wilderness.

"What is the history of your clan and Asha?"

Thorin let out a sigh. The history of the Brimir and Durin families was not a short nor understandable one to those not of the direct lines. But Thyra was different. She had a knowledge that should be put to use in more than a life of servitude. While he believed Asha did utilize the girls knowledge, she had much more potential.

Thinking that an objective viewpoint could be helpful, he went ahead and told her of their history. He explained the feud between their two families. Told her of their relationship with certain intimacies left out, though he figured she could easily come to those conclusions on her own. Then he finished with a recounting of the night his brother died and the words exchanged.

"What can a person do in a situation like this?" He found himself asking. "What should I do?"

There was silence for a long period and Thorin was beginning to think he had overstepped his boundaries. What would a young girl know or offer to something such as this. She had not even lived enough years to even experience such a conundrum. And yet...

"Their are an unfathomable amount of options to do. And your question of what you should do is entirely dependent," she finally answered, breaking Thorin from his doubtful musings.

"Dependent on what?"

She looked down at him, her head straight and looming, no longer looking like and owl but instead a hawk focused on its prey.

"What you want."

When Thorin looked at her in confusion she expanded her thoughts.

"Ivor was your enemy. If Thrade is his son then you have the best way to exact your revenge."

Thorin narrowed his eyes, taken aback by her suggestion. He was suddenly reminded of one of the first observations he had ever made of the girl. She was dangerous. Perhaps Fili did have reason to be suspicious of her.

"I do not want revenge. I would never harm a hair on that boys head," he said sternly. "And if that is the only kind of advise you have then I want to hear none of it."

Thyra shrugged with ease as if his dark tone had no effect on her.

"Then do not take that option."

"What are my other options?" Thorin found himself asking, despite his earlier declaration of not wanting her advisory.

Thyra let out a sigh.

"As I said, there are an unfathomable amount of options. To save time I need you to be honest first. What is it that you really want to hear? Do you want Thrade to be the son of your enemy? Do you want the father to be some unknown man who replaced you within Asha's heart? Or do you want Thrade to be your son?"

"I don't know," Thorin said finding himself getting slightly agitated.

He was beginning to see why his eldest nephew's patience was shortened when with the girl. He also wondered why Asha would council with the girl when she could not offer any advice except question him with the same questions he seemed to be wanting answers to.

"I just want to know who his father is. Then I can know what I need to do or depending on the answer, if there is anything I must do."

Thyra clucked her tongue and shook her head in dissatisfaction.

"No," she said with a faint tone of disappointment that left Thorin feeling strange. "Who his father is, does not matter. As I said before, you must decide who YOU want the father to be, then you will be ready to know the truth." She watched him for a moment and when a look of annoyance flashed across her face, Thorin knew that she was not conveying her meaning properly. "Fili and Kili are not of your seed but you treat them as if they were sons."

"That is different, they are still of the same bloo—"

Thyra's voice let out harsh cursing in Règan causing Thorin to look at her in surprise as her face contorted into frustration and anger.

"Blood mean nothing," she said harshly. "Thrade a good man, he raised well by Asha and he aspires to be like man he looks up to." Her accent was becoming thicker in her anger. "The fabled Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin was struck dumb.

 _Thrade looked up to him? Why?_

Thorin found himself unable to say anything and Thyra seemed to calm slightly at his shock. Her face softened as she looked out whimsically into the night. Her dark eyes focused on a point far off into the distance.

"You love Asha. Still after all these years. You desire her still. You want her to be a part of your life, but not just in treaty or peace. You want what you missed out long ago." She paused for a moment before continuing. "She still loves you."

As she said this, she looked down to connect her eyes with Thorin's.

"Thrade is Asha's son, who the father is only depends on who you want it to be. Shared blood or not." She slowly shifted to the edge of the stump and dropped down to the forest floor. "What you do, depends on what you want. If you want Asha, you must accept her son...no matter who his father was."

She looked up at him.

"Do you want a son or not, Thorin of the Oakenshield?"

Thorin now understood why Asha took council from Thyra. After posing her question, Thyra silently walked away towards camp, apparently taking up his earlier offer to rest while he kept watch. He watched her go for a moment before finally letting his eyes begin to study the slowly lighting forest as twilight approached.

Thyra was right. He did not just want a friendship with Asha. He wanted more. And if he wanted that, he had to accept the fact that she had a son. By him or by another, Thyra was correct. It did not matter. Because if he truly wanted what his heart desired, Thrade would be a part of that. Thyra had also been right about something else. Deep down he already knew the answer. He did not know why, perhaps it was an animalistic instinct or a paternal gift. Whatever the reason, it terrified him. Because if this deep feeling was true, it changed everything.

He had a son. A son that he knew nothing about. A son that Asha had purposely omitted his existence. She was hiding him, keeping him from him.

Before the depressing fact could take its toll on him or before his anger could be riled by Asha's actions, an idea came to his mind.

He wanted to know more about Thrade, and he had a perfect opportunity to get what he wanted. He smiled at the thought. Yes, Asha wanted to keep Thrade from him, but it seemed Mahal had other plans.

* * *

They were packing up camp and erasing all signs of their stay when Thorin approached Thrade as he and Thyra doused the fire and covered it with dirt. As he came up to them they each paused in their work to look up at him. When he called out and beckoned to Thrade, Thyra instantly went back to work as the other eagerly stood up and walked over to him.

As Thrade reached him, Thorin gestured for him to follow a small distance to the outer perimeter of the camp. As he walked, he watched Thrade looking at him apprehensively from the corner of his eye. Finally reaching the desired distance to have a private conversation, Thorin turned to him and studied the young man for a moment. Instantly Thrade began to fidget as he shot a quick glance back towards those still packing up camp then looking up at Thorin.

"I am sorry sir if I have done something wrong," Thrade quickly apologized, causing some slight confusion in Thorin. "I know I am not a member of your group and you have been a good host, so I am sorry if I have somehow overstepped my boundaries or…"

Thorin held up a hand.

"You have done nothing wrong Thrade I assure you. There is no need for you apology."

Thrade's shoulders instantly relaxed as a show of relief played across his face.

"Yes, sir." Thrade said in a polite tone.

A slight frown came to Thorin's lips as the young man addressed him so properly. The sound of Thrade addressing him with such formality did not settle with Thorin. It was bothersome and instinctually it felt wrong.

"There is no need for that, please, just Thorin will do."

Thrade nodded.

"Yes sir...sorry sir, I mean...sorry Thorin."

Thorin's lips lifted in slight amusement at the younger man's eagerness to please.

"I wanted to inquire of your plans and way of travel?" Thorin began.

Thrade scratched the back of his head.

"I suppose I will depart for the guild this morning. According to Thyra they will have already left but I figured I would follow our usual northward routes and hopefully catch up to the rest." He answered. "It's not ideal but this would not be the first time. At least this time I know the destination."

Thorin nodded but his lips slowly turned downward in disapproval. Thrade certainly seemed capable and he did not doubt he would manage on his own. But there was something that bothered him about the idea of Thrade traveling alone at such distance and in such unstable lands.

"Might I propose a counter plan?" Thorin asked.

"A counter?" Thrade repeated.

"How would you like to travel along with my company?" Thorin proposed. "You would still end up in the same destination and I could certainly use the extra help."

Thorin's watched as Thrade's hazel eyes brightened at the idea.

"You would not mind?" Thrade asked quickly.

Thorin shook his head.

"I would like to get to know you better and any son that comes no from Asha would be an asset to our group."

Thorin good see the glimmer of excitement rise in Thrade's eyes, and despite Thrade's efforts to seem as collected as he could, Thorin could not help but be amused by his ecstatic attitude.

"Am I to take that as a yes?" Thorin asked when Thrade failed to reply. He was too occupied with staying as collected as he could.

"Yes sir!" Thrade exclaimed none too calmly. Instantly he cleared his throat and in a more calm tone said, "I mean uh...yes...Thorin. It would be an honor."

. . . . . . . . . . . . .


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: The Exposure Encounter

The weather was getting progressively warmer making their days of travel hot and sweaty. They had made good progress in the last couple of weeks, taking few breaks during their long days of traveling. But with little time to do anything but eat and sleep, hygiene and personal grooming was easily forgotten. So after fourteen days of a grueling pace during an early summer heat wave, Thorin finally announced that they would take a days rest in a small grove that provided shade from the hot sun and cover from prying eyes. As an added bonus, the small grove was located near a small river that ran southward from their camp.

Fili and Kili all but ran towards the river the moment they had finished their duties of securing the perimeter of their camp. Together they quickly grabbed fresh clothes from their bags and began to make a mad dash towards the riverside. Just before they left the main part of the camp, Fili caught sight of Thrade finishing up his duties with Ori and slowed down as he addressed his brother.

"Should we ask Thrade to join us?" Fili inquired of his brother.

Kili glanced back to Thrade, a small frown pulling at his mouth.

"Nah," he said trying to sound casual. "He is still finishing up."

Fili had noticed his brother's odd behavior towards Thrade. He himself had found the man to be quite pleasant and got along quite well.

It was not to say that Kili went out of his way nor was ever rude to Thrade, but Fili did notice that Kili also never went out of his way to be welcoming or his usual overly friendly self. He could easily perceive his brothers reasons, but Fili felt as though he had let things go on long enough. As a prince, he needed to act with more decorum. Especially with the knowledge that while perhaps his mother had forsaken her birthright, Thrade was still of noble blood.

But before he could correct his brother's behavior by saying that Thrade was in fact, at this very moment finishing his duties, his brother clapped him on the shoulder and began to take off in a trot.

"Come on," he called over his shoulder, "last one there is a rotten egg!"

Not one to back down from a challenge, Fili quickly forgot about inviting Thrade and chased after his younger brother.

The path to the river was sparse of trees but there was a large number of rhododendron bushes covering the area. So it was only when Fili rounded around a particularly large shrub that the river came into view. But he was only able to catch a glimpse of the alluring water when he suddenly skidded to a stop as his brother pulled up into his own abrupt stop.

Fili bumped into his dibling, causing him to slightly move forward a half step from the forceful collision. He was about to chastise his brother when he noticed the rigidity of Kili's posture as he stood in a frozen stuper. As Fili cast a glance at his brother's profile, he noticed that Kili's face was colored scarlet all the way to the tips of his ears as he stared forward.

"Kili what theー," his voice was cut off as he followed his brother's line of sight to see the very reason for Kili's flushed stupor.

He instantly felt his cheeks warm as his own flush took over his face.

Before them, both Sigurd and Thyra were in the middle of redressing after having just finished their own bathing. Sigurd stood frozen, her eyes wide and horrified as a blush spread throughout her face. She was covered only by a thin slip as she held her arms across her chest in an attempt to provide a little more modesty than what the transparent cloth had originally provided.

Beside her stood Thyra, a face of indifference as her dark eyes moved lazily back and forth between Fili and Kili. Here arms were crossed in front of her chest but it was in no attempt to secure her modesty as she stood confidently with only her chest bindings and brown leggings to cover her body. As each prince failed to avert their eyes in their shocked state, Thyra's mouth quirked up into a smug smile as her eyes settled on Kili who was in no lesser term, ogling a frozen Sigurd.

"See something you like Kili?" Thyra called out slowly.

Her words seemed to break the other three from their frozen states. Instantly Kili was sputtering incoherent apologies from his mouth as his eyes dashed wildly around. First he averted his eyes up to the sky as he rubbed his head, then looked to Sigurd to apologize, realized he was looking at her half undressed form, then looked away to another point in their surroundings. He continued this pattern until Fili finally grabbed him by the neck and forced him to turn fully around.

The moment Kili was facing away he heard the shuffling of clothing and felt instant gratitude that his brother was able to take action. The shuffling stopped and he noticed Fili chance a glance backwards to make sure each of the maidens where now decent.

Kili slowly turned around when he noticed Fili turning as well. His eyes moved to Sigurd who was still beet red as she stared at the ground between them in embarrassment.

"Siggy I am so sorry," Kili began, "we thought we were the first to finish with our duties. Had I known you two were down here I would not have come anywhere near the river. I promise I had no idea! We were not spying nor will I ever...I just...we thought…"

His rambling apology turned silent as Thyra let out a amushed tsk sound.

"You need not apologize," Thyra began, "It is not as if we have not seen you two in even less dress. So think of it as getting even."

Fili who at this point had yet to say anything looked closely at Thyra. He was not impressed with how casually she was handling the situation. In his opinion a young woman should have more propriety. But it was not the lack of decorum that had him confused, but instead, it was her last comments.

"What do you mean you have seen us in less dress?" he demanded. "We would never expose ourselves to the eyes of young ladies."

Thyra rolled her eyes at his posh tone.

"Perhaps you should be more tactic when swimming in the fountains of Rivendell. Any person could walk by and see," she announced as she examined a small healing wound on her knuckles, the last evidence of her fight with Dwalin.

Her mouth curled into a smirk as her eyes flashed up at the sounds of Kili's embarrassed sputtering. Her smirk turned more cynical as she noticed the faint redness in Fili's cheeks but then moved back to Kili, whose face was consumed with scarlet discoloration.

"No need to be embarrassed Kili," she continued with a grin as she nodded towards Sigurd. "Your physic was more than impressive…even Siggy say so." Her attention then moved to Fili. "You…" she looked him up and down, "not so much."

Seeming content with reestablishing an awkward and discomforting atmosphere, Thyra began to walk away without another word, leaving the small group alone in her wake, each with varying reactions to her words.

A flustered and crimsoned Sigurd was left to hurriedly follow after her as she avoided all eye contact with either of the young princes. She walked around them, giving Kili an especially wide berth as she did so.

Fili was left with his hands in clenched fists as an anger rose within him at the low blow to his manhood. His mind raced with a flurry of curses and preposterous urges to follow after her to demand that she take back her claims.

All the while, Kili was left with confliction as he wavered between embarrassment and a sense of pride. He knew better than to assume Thrya was really telling the truth. But the small voice in the back of his mind stopped him as it reminded him that Sigurd had not disagreed with Thyra's statement. He heard Fili begin muttering under his breath but he paid no attention to his words as a small smile spread across his lips and his chest swelled with a bit more pride. Sigurd had been impressed.

* * *

"Kili," called Thorin. "Take Sigurd and fetch some water for supper. While you're down there, see if you can collect some water chestnuts as well. Thyra said she saw some at on the far bank when she swept the perimeter."

As he spoke he handed Kili three pots to be filled with water. Kili took two of them then looked towards Sigurd to see a panic stricken expression on her face. She frantically avoided eye contact with him as she approached Thorin and took the third pot from his uncle's hand.

It was silent as they walked together and Kili hated every moment of it. Ever since the exposure incident that morning, Sigurd had been avoiding him. Never meeting his eye or staying around long enough for him to even try and talk to her.

At the moment she was walking quickly in front of him, her eyes pinned straight ahead keeping her face hidden from him and making it impossible to read.

By the time they reached the water side and had traveled downstream to where a fallen tree provided a natural bridge to cross over, Kili had decided he had enough. He could not possibly go any longer with things being awkward between them.

Reaching out a hand he lightly grabbed her shoulder. She startled at the physical contact but he was happy to see that she did not pull away. She came to a stop as he spoke.

"Listen Siggy, I am truly sorry about this morning. I know I cannot take back what happened but I cannot stand this awkwardness between us. If it would help we can even pretend that it never happened and I promise I will never bring it up again. I will do anything you ask of me I just can't stand us not being able to even look at each other, let alone speak a single word. I have come to value our interaction too much to let things change."

She turned around and he could see her face turning red the moment she looked up at him. Her eyes wandered around, never quite meeting his eye as she spoke.

"It's quite alright Kili," she said as her eyes danced around to their surroundings. "I know you are not that kind of a person and would have never intruded if you had known we were down there. And I am sorry for avoiding you. I guess...I was just embarrassed."

Kili felt himself relax as her azure eyes finally managed to meet his and hold his gaze for longer than a second. He gave her a relieved smile.

"So we are good then?"

Sigurd gave him a shy nod.

"Yes."

She turned to continue on but paused for a moment. Turning back to him, her face took on another tinged blush.

"And just so you know, Thyra took my words out of context. I promise as soon as I realized your...your undressed state...I turned away immediately. I saw nothing. I never said anything about your...um…I had just mentioned to Thyra that I thought you handsome that night. Not that I do not doubt that you are well…" she began to quickly amend but then flushed. "I mean, not that I think about一what I mean to say is that I am sure you…."

With every broken off sentence she turned a shade darker. After her last failed attempt of ramblings she cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of her and she shifted from side to side.

"What I mean to say is that I find you a very respectable and handsome man Kili," she said as she flickered her attention from his chin to his eyes. "And I value our friendship greatly as well. If you would be willing, I would appreciate it if we could just possibly forget about this morning's incident and act as if nothing happened."

As she finished she held his gaze as she smiled shyly up at him. Kili returned the smile, his chest swelling with joy by her words of praise.

"What incident?" He asked innocently.

Understanding his meaning, she gave him a grateful smile as she grabbed his sleeve and began to tug him along in search of the water chestnuts they had been sent to gather. Kili let himself be dragged along as he relearned the softness of her skin where her hand grazed his inner wrist as she clung to the fabric of his clothing.

* * *

For the first time in many weeks, the entire company was having a late night that was not due to traveling long into the day. Instead they were finally taking the time to relax and enjoy the few cultured pleasantries they could while out in the wilderness with no civilization in sight.

They had just finished a refreshing meal of delicious fish, fresh water chestnuts, and a well seasoned broth that Thyra had made using select parts of the fish and herbs from the eastern lands she had stowed away in her bags. With full stomachs and for the first time in a long while, feeling refreshed from a duly needed bath and fresh clothes, the company gathered around the fire. They talked together as they brought out their pipes and sipped on a soothing tea that Dori had prepared.

With no signs of danger in the past weeks, Thorin felt it safe enough to call out for some music for their entertainment for the night. And it was not a command that needed to be repeated as Bofur pulled out his fiddle, Bombur fetched a small drum, and Ori retrieved his flute.

With a few tuning adjustments to his fiddle, a request was made by Dori and the first chords of a familiar tune began to sing through the air. Immediately the group began to clap along while several sang along to the well known song.

Fili sang along as he looked around at those around him. A small distance away, Thyra was sitting next to Sigurd quietly drawing as she ignored the group around her. Not surprised by her lack of involvement, he moved on to the next person beside her.

Thrade was happily clapping along as he sang along with the rest of the group on the chorus. Beside him Sigurd sat next to him, her feet tapping in rhythm as she hummed along. As the next song began its prelude, Fili watched Sigurd excitedly look to Thrade.

"Want to dance?" she asked.

Thrade cast a quick glance to Thyra who seemed to be only focussed on her drawing. It was only a small peek before Thrade was back to focussing his attention on Sigurd as he gave her a polite smile.

"Sorry Sigurd, maybe next time," he said in a gentle tone. "I am a bit tired tonight."

Sigurd's shoulders sank and while she did well to hide the disappointment in her face as she gave an understanding nod of her head, Fili could see the rejected hurt in her eyes when she turned away. He immediately felt pity for the poor girl. While he understood that Thrade was going out of his way to not give any encouragement to Sigurd's feelings, he could not help but think that he could at least humor the girl with an innocent dance.

His inner musings were cut off when his brother spoke up next to him.

"I will dance with you Siggy!" He exclaimed a little too eagerly.

Fili could not help but chuckle at his brothers enthusiasm to step in and be a hero. But that small bit of humor died when he saw Sigurd offer his brother a similar smile to one she had just received herself.

"No, thank you Kili," she said in a soft tone. "Thrade is right, it's been a long day and perhaps it is a little too late for dancing."

* * *

It had been his chance, been his opportunity to shine and be the valiant savior for Sigurd. But it was all dashed aside with that beautiful, but sad smile and polite words.

Kili had not even been thinking about what it would be like to hold her in his arms when he offered. All he wanted to do was grant her wish to dance. But it seemed her wish was not simply to dance. It was a wish to dance with Thrade.

He let out a small sigh but before he could slouch in complete defeat, the sharp snap of a book being shut startled him and he looked over just in time to see Thyra place her drawing book to the side and stand up.

Thinking she was about to make a quick routine check of their surroundings, he thought nothing more of it. Instead he looked down at his feet as he began to wish for the night to be over so that they could go to sleep and continue on their journey in the morning. It was easier to ignore the pains in his chest when they were forced beyond exhaustion as they traveled the countryside.

Suddenly, two small feet came into view and he looked up to see Thyra looking down at him with her hand outstretched. A thin eyebrow moved upwards when he made no move. When confusion flashed across his face, Thyra rolled her eyes.

"You, me, dance." she more demanded than asked in succinct words.

Her accent had come out thickly with her annoyance of being forced to verbalize her intentions.

It was not that Kili was one to decline a lady asking for a dance. In fact, had it been any other person of the opposite gender he would have been more than happy to oblige such a request.

But Thyra was not just another girl, she was Thyra. And if he were completely honest, he had still yet to recover from the nightmare inducing incident of when he tried to wake her up. Even now he still struggled to look her directly in the eye. The thought of dancing with her, forced to fully face her, terrified him.

Swallowing deeply, he forced himself to look up at her. Her dark irises bore into him and he was struck with a slight tremor of fear as his suspicions of her being a demon resurfaced.

"Uhh…," he began. "Well you seeー"

His attempt and only hope of talking his way out of the situation was completely halted when her hand shot out and caught onto his forearm. Before he could brace himself, he was pulled up with ease as Thyra pulled him towards the small area of space in the semicircle formed by the rest of the company. With out a word she placed his hand on her waist while his other hand was secured by one of her own.

"Thyra," Kili began again. "Really, you don't have to...I was just…"

He was cut off when Thyra shot him a stern look.

"You want to dance with Siggy?" she asked quietly.

Kili was slightly confused by her question. What did his desire to dance with Sigurd have to do with him currently holding Thyra in his arms.

Automatically he assumed that perhaps she had worded her sentence incorrectly. While she spoke quite well, Kili did notice that she still struggled with Westron on occasion. Despite his assumption that it was perhaps a misphrasing on her part, he found himself answering her question anyways.

"Well yes, but…"

"Then dance," she commanded.

Kili sprung into instant obedience as he began to lead her in the familiar jig that was often paired with the song that Bofur had just struck up with his fiddle.

* * *

Fili had not taken his eyes off of Thyra from the moment she approached Kili and took him away.

He had read the panic in his brothers face and tried to think of a way to save him. But the only alternative her could think of, would be to offer himself in his brothers place. Something that no amount of brotherly love could persuade him to do.

So instead he watched carefully as he looked for the ulterior motive of Thyra's action, because he failed to believe that Thyra would request such a thing as an innocent dance. He could not picture Thyra doing hardly anything that would be considered laid back or fun. The water fight back when they were still with the guild was an anomaly. An anomaly that he believed would never repeat itself.

As Kili began to lead his partner in the light steps, Fili could not help but notice the grace in which Thyra moved. She moved with the leth movements that any maiden born of good breeding would possess. It was mesmerizing to watch her footwork but his attention was torn away when he heard Thrade speaking up off to his right.

He glanced over just in time to see Thrade extend and open hand out to Sigurd.

"You know what, perhaps I will take you up on that dance, Sigurd. Shall we?" he asked with an inviting smile.

Any trace of her earlier rejection was erased as she happily stood and accepted his offered hand. Together they walked over and after a few moments of counting out Thyra and Kili's steps, they easily began their own partnered jig that was in perfect synchronization with the other pair. Cheers and whistles sounded encouragement from the spectators as each dancing pair weaved around each other.

* * *

Despite his earlier hesitation, Kili could not help but smile as he and Thyra skipped around in circles together.

She moved evenly and with perfection. But what had truly put him at ease was the small smile that graced her lips as they moved together. He could not help but admit that while she was not his first choice in a partner, he was having fun. It was almost enough that he hardly noticed that Thrade and Sigurd had joined them.

But when it came time that partners broke apart and the female dancers moved to join each other in the middle, while the males stood to the side and kept rhythm with their hands, all his focus moved to Sigurd.

She looked radiant and happy as she bounced around in a circle with her arm linked with Thyra's. Her blue eyes glimmered as she caught his eye and sent him a smile that caused his stomach to churn with each time she faced him.

The song progressed and it came time for partners to rejoin and Kili forced himself to focus back on Thyra as he prepared for her to turn to him. Two more rotations of the girls linked arms and the tune reached its point in which they would return to their male partner. But then the unthinkable happened.

Thyra stumbled.

One single step was miscounted and instead of returning to him she moved towards Thrade, her arms unlinking with Sigurd, sending the latter hurtling forward in the opposite direction of her original partner.

Sigurd slingshotted forward and landed directly into Kili's unexpecting but prepared arms.

For several seconds they each froze. Kili felt her heaving chest pushing up against his with each of her labored breaths as his arms held tightly to her waist. Her own arms where gripping his shoulders tightly as she finally moved her attention up to look at him.

Kili stared down, too nervous to move and too awed to speak. Then suddenly he caught movement just above his head and he managed to move his attention to slightly above Sigurd's hairline.

From over her head he caught sight of Thrade and Thyra moving together in the dance steps. Thyra turned towards him, her eyes catching his and glinting knowingly before one of them closed in an unmistakable wink.

It was then he realized, Thyra's misstep was not a mistake.

* * *

As KIli danced the final half of the song with Sigurd tightly held in his arms he beamed brightly as his cheeks stretched to their full capacity, Fili could recall only four other moments when he saw his brother so equally happy as he was in this moment.

Three of those times had been caused by his own actions, the fourth had been by Thorin when he had told them he would be taking them on the journey to reclaim Erebor. And then there was now. In addition to those four now came the fifth time, and it was caused by none other than the dancing Régínn before him.

For one blissful moment, Fili truly believed that Thyra had missed a step in the dance. He had relished the feeling that for once, Thyra had messed up.

But then he caught the unmistakable wink she had sent to Kili and it all made sense. She had not made a mistake, she had done it on purpose.

A bout of annoyance flowed through him at the realization. He hated that she seemed flawless. Even her " _mistakes"_ were done so well that only those who had been truly watching closely would have really known the truth. And watch closely he had. He was always watching her when she was around and he hated it. Yet he could not stop.

Purposely forcing his eyes away from her he focused on his brothers face in hopes to improve his mood. Apart from being the best candidate for Durin's next heir, there was one other thing that Fili prioritized over everything else in his life. And that was his brother's happiness.

Fili lived and breathed to make sure that his younger brother was as happy as he could be. He had seen Kili fall in and out of love with many maidens, but never in his life had he ever witnessed his brother to be so besotted by a single woman. Nor had he ever seen his brothers eyes light up with so much delight as he spun Sigurd around in his arms.

The song came to a pause and another began.

Immediately, Sigurd and Kili took up the dance while Thyra moved away from Thrade who, as Fili noticed, looked hesitant to let her go. But before he could make any move to stop her or follow, Bofur had passed off his fiddle to Dwalin as he bound out to join the dancers. His enthusiasm taking over Thrade as he was pulled away to join Bofur in a lined step dance as a few others joined in as well.

Not long after, Fili found Thyra settling back down to the ground with her drawing book in her lap.

He watched her for a moment as she sat with the book open and her head bowed down. However, instead of focusing on her drawing, he noticed her dark eyes peeking up at the dancers before them. Without realizing it, Fili found himself moving over to where she sat.

"Thanks for that," Fili quietly said as he settled down a few feet from her as he kept his eyes on his brother and dance partner.

"For what?" Thyra asked, her tone casual as Fili picked up the sound of graphite against parchment.

He looked over to see her concentrated on drawing her lines and no longer watching the dancers.

"That mistep was no mistake," Fili stated bluntly. "You did it on purpose."

Thyra's hand stilled as she continued to look down at her drawing. Then after a few moments, she continued her slow methodical movements as she responded.

"Believe it or not Feelig, but even I make mistakes."

At the sound of the name that he was truly beginning to loathe, Fili rose to his feet and walked off without even attempting to correct her.

He could not understand the infernal girl. She was obviously not as heartless as she seemed yet she still refused to take credit where it was warranted.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

 **A/N The song they dance to in this chapter would be to the tune of Misty Morning by David Arkenstone**

 **A/N Had a question about their ages and so here is a small break down of the ages of the younger characters in dwarf years and then in parenthesis is what would be their equivalent age (or age rage) in human years to put their ages into perspective.**

 **Thrade 101 (Early 30's) Fili 82 (Mid/Late 20's) Kili 77 (Early 20's) Sigurd 77 (Early 20's) Thyra 66 (19)**

 **In this story I have kind of decided that Khazad come of age at the human age of 21 so around the age of 70 in dwarf years. For the Reginn they come of age at 16 in human years so around 55 in dwarf years. The math is a bit off on the ratio's but its within a few years so we can over look that :) Anyways hope some of you found this interesting.**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: From Frying Pan to Fire Encounter: Part I

It was not that Fili was watching her, he was merely observing, noting, learning. There was not much he gained from his studies, but one of the few things he gleaned and found to be sure about, was the woman was a creature of habits. The most reliable and repetitive of her habits were those of her morning routine.

Like clockwork, Thyra would begin her morning with daily prayers. To what deities she offered up her muttered words, he did not know. But following her short kneeled utterings, she would proceed with packing her bed roll, and then catch a spot of breakfast before reporting to Thorin. Following her report, she would set out to scout ahead while the rest of the company prepared for their own departure as a group. It had been like this since their first day of departure and not a single morning had been different. Until now.

He had just finished his shift as the final watch and was on his way back to the main camp to rouse the rest of the slumbering group. On any normal morning, he would come across Thyra, kneeled on her knees muttering quiet words in Régan. The moment he would come across her, she would finish by licking her first three fingers and drag them through the dirt before standing up and silently walking back with him.

But today he did not come across her.

Thrown off by the irregularity, he glanced towards her bed roll the moment he reached camp. He had been expecting to see her sleeping soundly beside Sigurd but was only greeted by an empty space of flattened grass that was the only evidence that she had ever laid there.

Shaking his head, he moved on to a new assumption that perhaps she had somehow woken earlier than usual. He had been noticing the past few nights that she had not been sleeping well. He assured himself he had not noticed because he was concerned, it was merely and observation that he had taken note of.

With this fact in mind, he deduced that since she had woken early, then she would have already left to go scout ahead. At this, a twinge of annoyance began to form in the back of his mind. He did not like how Thyra could so easily go about undetected. He had not even noticed her departure.

As he made it around the camp, he finally approached his sleeping uncle and gave him a small shake to waken him. He watched as his uncle's eyes immediately shot open, then slowly relax as he took in his nephew.

"First light is here," Fili said to which he received a nod from his uncle.

He watched as Thorin rubbed the sleep from his eyes then stretch his body, his bones let out several cracks and pops as he let out a tired grunt before slowly standing up.

"Anything to report from last night?" He asked in a tired tone as he began to pack his things.

"No," Fili replied, then added curiously, "When did Thyra check out with you before leaving this morning?"

Thorin paused in rolling up his bed roll to look up at his heir with a confused look.

"Thyra did not check out with m," he looked around the campground. "Is she not still here?"

It was those words that disturbed Fili greatly. Suddenly, he knew that something was very, very wrong.

* * *

"Has anyone seen Thyra this morning?" Thorin called out to the group milling about the campground as they did their own morning routines.

At his words all stopped and looked at him. He scanned their faces, looking for any source of a glimmer but was disappointed when all he received where confused and blank stares.

Thorin was suddenly struck with a nervousness. He had promised Asha to watch out for the two young women of their company and now he had just lost one. Had he been to confident in letting her come and go without pairing her off with someone? Did she seek out privacy to attend to personal needs and get caught?

He shook his head. No, her belongings were gone meaning that she had left without the intention of coming back anytime soon. Most likely she had left to begin the usual scouting ahead.

But it was not like her to leave so early and without any word.

He looked to Sigurd.

"Sigurd," he said, his voice perhaps coming out a bit too roughly with his hidden worry. "Did Thyra say anything to you about leaving?"

Sigurd startled but immediately shook her head.

Thorin sighed in frustration, doing his best to not get angry at her. He ran a hand through his hair as he searched his mind. He did not have the time to waste searching for her today. He had planned it out carefully that they would travel hard for several weeks then rest a day then take up a vigorous pace again. So far it was working and they were making good progress but time was still precious.

* * *

Thrade could see the agitation growing within Thorin. He had heard the underplaying worry in his words but the cause was uncertain. He was not sure if it was for the loss of time by trying to solve Thyra's disappearance, or for worry for Thyra's safety. He hoped it was for the latter reason.

He had noticed that Thorin watched over and treated Thrya well. A feat that he was pleased to discover in the man that he had always idolized. Thrade himself already felt himself beginning to worry as he ran every scenario of her disappearance. He always worried, despite the fact that she was more than capable to take care of herself.

"Fili, did you notice her leaving during any part of you watch?"

Thrade immediately looked hopefully to Fili at Thorin's question. Fili shook his head, a twinge of what Thrade perceived as either embarrassment or annoyance showing on the princes' face.

"No,"Fili answered. "The last I saw of her was when she woke me for my shift after she finished her own watch right at midnight."

 _Midnight_ , Thrade thought.

It was nearly seven hours ago and Thrade shivered at the thought of how much could happen in that time. As he was about to go out and begin his own independent search for Thyra, Sigurd spoke up in a quiet voice.

"Wait, what is today?"

* * *

Fili looked at Sigurd in confusion at her question. Why in all of middle earth was this girl worried about the date when the most mysterious person of their group suddenly disappeared. He could think of a hundred more things to be worried about than the date. All of a sudden his paranoia which had become dormant some time over the past weeks came flooding back.

"It's tuesday," came Balins voice.

Fili caught Sigurd shaking her head.

"No not the day of the week. What day of the month is it?"

Fili caught a change in Thrade's face at her words and he focused on the dark haired man as a small glint of understanding came to Thrade's face.

"It's the eighteenth," Thrade answered.

Sigurd turned to him and nodded.

"Today is the day."

"Excuse me, but would one of you mind filling me in as to what is significant about today's date?"

At Thorin's deep voice both of them turned to him.

"Every year on this date Thyra goes off by herself," answered Sigurd, "we don't know why and she has never said anything about it. She just leaves early in the morning and then shows back up the next day. She never says anything about what she does and we have never asked. We just made the connection a few years ago that it is always on the same day, the eighteenth of this month."

"We don't have time to wait around for a whole day," Thorin said sternly. He turned to Fili and Kili. "You two go start searching the area–"

"Wait," came Thrade's voice causing Fili and Kili to pause in their steps to prepare to leave. "We don't have to wait, we can carry on as usual and Thyra will catch up."

Thorin studied the young man for a moment then looked to Sigurd who gave a small nod in agreement.

"You are sure of this?"

Thrade nodded.

"Yes," he said confidently. "She is smart enough to not expect us to wait nor would she ask us to. If anything it will be us trying to catch up with her."

Thorin kept the young man's gaze as he debated his words. Finally, he decided to trust Thrade to know Thyra's action better than himself. He knew if Thrade was not confident he would not have suggested it. He saw the way he looked at her and knew that he would never abandon the girl if he thought she was in any harm.

"Very well," he said before looking to Fili and Kili. "Forget searching, we will continue going forward."

Fili hesitantly nodded while he went back to preparing his bag for the days journey instead of scouting the wilderness. He told himself he was more than happy to continue on instead of traipsing through the rough terrain while looking for a woman who was more than capable of evading anyone's detection if she wanted.

* * *

The day dragged on and while nothing of any concern presented itself, Fili could not help but shake the feeling that something was wrong. He hated to admit it, but he could not wait until Thyra was back. She may get under his skin easily but she also brought a sense of security to the company. With her gone, the group felt...vulnerable.

By morning he woke early and automatically swept the area in hopes that Thyra would somehow be nearby doing her routine prayers but again, she was absent and was nowhere to be found.

As breakfast was finished and the camp was packed up even Thorin addressed the issue of her absence to Sigurd and Thrade again. They each gave their assurance that she would be back at any moment and that they could depart.

By mid morning when they stopped for a quick break, Thrade's and Sigurd's confidence wavered as they admitted that she was never this late in returning.

Bilbo spoke up then and made the suggestion that perhaps she would be later since she would be catching up. They all grasped onto the possibility of it being a sound suggestion as they began to move again. And while Thorin was adamant that they could not delay, Fili could not help but notice their pace had slowed significantly since that morning.

* * *

Kili glanced behind to notice that he and his brother were no longer bringing up the rear as he had thought a few moments ago. She was only a few meters but he was surprised to find Sigurd lagging behind the group as her steps slowed. She fell farther behind as she kept her neck craned to look behind, her eyes searching desperately.

Knowing exactly what she was doing, Kili slowed down until Sigurd had caught up with him. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to reluctantly pull her eyes away from whence they came.

"Siggy, she will be fine." Kili supplied.

Sigurd looked up at him and nodded, though he could still see the worry in her face.

"Hey," he offered again as he forced optimism into his voice. "I bet you anything she is already ahead of us with a secured campsite and supper already stewing for us.

This coxed a small laugh from her lips as she nodded. Pleased that he had relieved her of some worry, he grabbed her hand and began to walk a little faster. She in return began to match his steps until they had caught up with Fili.

At their approach Sigurd and Kili continued to muse and entertain what exactly Thyra would have prepared for them in order to keep the real worry from their minds. But despite their joking manor, Fili could not let the optimism break through is own worry.

He glanced back, searching for any sign of the Règìnn but he was only met with a still landscape. A sudden heavy breeze ruffled the grass below his feet and caused his hair to shift with the wind. There was a sudden change in the atmosphere and the pressure suddenly felt heavy.

In the background Fili could hear the faint rumblings of thunder far away.

At the sound he caught Kili giving him a worried look from over Sigurd's head. He was suddenly hit with the sensation that it was a bad omen for their future. This single thought caused him to frown in displeasure. He did not like the thought of Thyra's superstition beginning to rub off on him.

* * *

The wind had picked up and the ominous dark clouds were closing in on them but they had yet to feel a drop of rain. They had gathered together after reaching a small forested area and began to debate on if they should focus on finding shelter to wait out the storm or if they should continue on and make the best of what day light they had left.

As they debated, a frantic pace of light footsteps began to sound not far from them. Every once in awhile, the sound of leaves being rustled or a fallen branch snapping in half would accompany the steps. To Fili it sounded like an animal running through the forest. But what animal, he was uncertain.

By the alert looks of several others in the group, Fili knew that he was not the only one who had become aware of it. Soon all talk died down as the company began to look around for the source of noise.

Through the gaps in the trees, Fili caught sight of what the cause of the ruckus was from.

Thyra was sprinting towards them as she weaved through the tall pines at speed that was nearly unfathomable for a dwarf to reach. Her steps faltered and stumbled occasionally as she kept the majority of her attention focused behind her, instead of the trees she was narrowly avoiding running into.

As she closed in on them, with signs of not slowing down, Fili realized that she was not even aware of their presence. This assumption was proven correct when her head suddenly twisted forward and she skidded to a hard stop just before running over a small Bilbo.

The hobbit instantly took several steps back to avoid a collision as Thyra slid across the slippery carpet of pine needles that covered the ground.

Her hair was a mess as it flowed widely down around her face and shoulders, the usual band that kept it up was nowhere to be seen. She was utterly filthy. Dark brown mud covered her clothing and colors of blue and black paint adorned her face in what could have once been distinguished designs but were now smudged and streaked lines. There was a splatter of dark color that did not seem to match the rest of the paint and that is when Fili realized it was not paint, it was blood. Orc blood judging by the blackness of it.

The evidence of why she was late in catching up was now clear. She must have run into a few rouge orcs and decided to clear them out. But then he noticed the way she was holding herself and he noticed the maroon stain that had seeped along her left side. More blood, this time obviously her own as it bleed from a large gash that ran across her exposed arm.

"Where have you been? What happened?" Came Thorin's commanding voice.

Her eyes were wide a round as they dashed around the group until they finally landed on Thorin. The moment she caught sight of him her mouth opened and she vomited out a string of Règan in one breath. Her tone was panicked raising alarm amongst the group.

Not understanding a single word of the girls native tongue Thorin looked to Sigurd for a translation.

"Sigurd, what in Mahal's name is she going on about?"

Sigurd shook her head.

"I don't know , she is going too fast."

As Thyra continued to ramble on at a fast pace she kept gesturing back behind her, then pointing around them. In an effort to try and calm her down Sigurd approached the panicking Régínn and tried to talk to her using words in Thyra's native tongue.

Thyra seemed to calm down slightly enough focus on Sigurd and answer her question. But her words came out thickly accented and so fast there was no distinguishing when a word started and another began. Sigurd's brow creased as she tried to reap as much as she could before looking to Thorin.

"She keeps saying something about a white something...and something about an animal. But I cannot understand the other words, I am unfamiliar with them and she is going too fast."

It was obvious that Thyra was getting frustrated as she pushed Sigurd to the side and looked to Thorin.

" _ **Hvítur Freki**_ ," she said desperately as if pleading for Thorin to understand.

When all she received was a confused look she let out a growl.

"Wolf," she said in a thickly. " _ **Ôrc**_...sit on wolf. _**Veiðimenn,**_ come."

Thorin strained to work her words into meaning.

It was a mixture of Westron and Règan but it still did not make sense. Thyra grabbed at her hair in frustration. Thorin could sense that something was certainly amiss. He knew Thyra struggled with Westron when distressed, Asha had warned him of this. But he had never witnessed her struggle to communicate so much. It was only a testament to how rattled she was. But what would cause her this amount of panic?

"Run," she managed to get out, breaking Thorin from his thoughts. "You run!"

There was no mistaking her message now. Whatever it was she was trying to convey, the message was clear. Thyra had run into danger at it was not far behind her.

Suddenly a warg scout burst from a ledge above them. With Thyra's frantic and injured appearance they had already been put on high alert. Kili sent an arrow into the orc scouts chest as Dwalin brought down his axe into the wargs head, ending its life.

But they had been too late in silencing the scout as a loud screech left its lungs.

The shrill sound echoed out as they all stood still, hoping beyond hope that it had been too far away to be heard. Seconds past and just as the relief that their position was not compromised a faint sound echoed back to them. The hunters had caught wind of their prey.

There was no need for his command as they were already moving but Thorin's stern shout on cemented the urgency in their attempt to flee.

. . . . . . . . .


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: From Frying Pan to Fire Encounter: Part II

With Thyra's sudden arrival bringing danger, the storm finally decide to fall upon them to set the ambiance for the peril they were in. There was still no rain, but lightning lit up the darkening sky as dry air moved in to cause a shift in the wind. As one they all fled, Gandalf and Thorin took lead as they maneuvered around thinned pine trees.

Their swiftness was commendable but it was an unfortunate occurrence that the ground in which they swiftly sped across came to an abrupt end as they came to the edge of a plateau.

The drop was much too far for any species without wings to survive as would the climb down be nearly just as likely to result in fatality. With brittle slate to make up its sides and little foliage to hang onto, their attempt of decent would be doomed. Corralled like a herd of sheep, they quickly turned around to face the hungry wolves that had driven them to the ledge.

Several warg riding orcs were fast approaching and there was no chance of taking a new route as they swarmed in at all sides. Thorin wracked his brain for an alternate escape that would involve the least amount of fighting. But every possible source was blocked. There was no going forward, there was no going left or right, and to go back would certainly mean fighting their way out. He knew there were capable warriors among his group but he did not wish to chance it. By the way Thyra held herself, she was already badly wounded. Meaning, these orcs were not just farel rouges, they were organized.

As he looked to Gandalf for some hope that the wizard had any ideas, he was struck with dismay as the grey man looked around just as desperately as he had. He watched as Gandalf looked down to the valley below, then up to the sky where the treetops stretched up to the darkened clouds above.

"To the trees," the wizard said quickly as he grabbed ahold of Bilbo and began to push him up to the nearest low hanging branch.

Not entirely happy with the old wizard's solution, Thorin saw no other option. It would not help them escape but it would at least delay the inevitable fight that was fast approaching. It would give them a little more time to think and plan a method of tactics.

Thorin turned to the rest of the group as he instructed them to begin climbing. Without question they followed his command. In organized swiftness they all began to scale up the surrounding trees and await further inspiration from their leader.

* * *

As soon as Thorin gave the command, Fili moved towards the nearest tree and motioned for Sigurd as he knit his hands together to fashion her a step. Sigurd stepped hesitantly as her head tilted upwards to look up to the tall branches above. Slowly she looked back down and took a step back.

"It's ok," she said weakly. "Someone else can go first."

Confused, Fili looked expectantly to Thyra instead. However, she was too preoccupied by looking at Sigurd to notice that Fili was now waiting for her.

"Siggy," Thyra urged. "Up."

Sigurd's head slowly shook from side to side as she waved her off.

"It's ok, I will go up later," she said. "You are shorter, you go first."

Thyra's eyes narrowed as she approached the dark haired maiden. Her strong hand grabbed ahold of Sigurd and dragged her to the tree.

"Siggy, up" Thrya repeated, this time in a tone that did not suggest it was debatable.

Suddenly Sigurd began to shake as her head moved faster in protest. She began muttering a protest as she tried to pull free from Thyra's iron grip.

A sharp smack sounded as Thyra crossed her hand across Sigurd's cheek. There was a gasp of pain that escaped Sigurd's lips as well as several intakes of shock coming from the male dwarves that were waiting on them.

"Thyra, just let her go la一" began Kili as he moved to separate Sigurd from Thyra in fear that she would strike the woman again.

But Kili's protest was cut short as Thyra sent him a warning look. She then looked back to Sigurd who had a hand pressed against the reddened skin on her face.

" _ **Climb up now or I will throw you up**_!" She screamed in Régínn as she pulled Sigurd closer towards the tree and started to lift the shaking girl up into the tree.

With Thyra's aggressive encouragement and Fili's more gentle added aid, Sigurd stiffly grabbed ahold of the lowest branch and slowly pulled herself up. Once standing on the second branch up with her arms tightly wrapped around the trunk, Sigurd stopped and looked down. Her hands instantly grabbed more tightly to the bark as she looked pleadingly down at Thyra. The smaller dwarrowdam ignored her and turned to Kili.

Kili, who had been focused on Sigurd, suddenly felt himself being pulled down by the collar of his shirt.

"You," Thyra growled as she pulled him to the tree. "Help her."

Having left him no room to protest nor did he have any of his own objections. Kili quickly scaled up the tree and began to help Sigurd slowly ascend to the higher branches. The moment Kili was up, Thyra turned to Thrade and pointed.

"You next," she commanded.

Thrade shook his head.

"You first he protested."

Fili, seeing that Thyra was already out of any patience and also seeing the urgency of having no more delay as the orcs closed in, gestured to Thrade.

"Thrade," he urged. "Go on up, I will make sure she goes up after you."

Thrade shook his head again. "I am not going up until she has gone."

"No more waste time," Thrya shouted, her impatience causing her word structure to falter. "Too much delay. Get up!"

"Not until I know your safe," Thrade shouted back.

His words made Thyra stiffen.

" _ **My**_ duty, keep _**you**_ safe," she growled through gritted teeth. "Your life before mine."

Thrade stepped closer and grabbed her, his intention clear to throw her up into the tree just as she had with Sigurd. But unlike Sigurd, Thyra quickly threw him off.

Fili was getting frustrated.

"I don't care which one of you gets up before the other, but one of you do it before we all become warg chowder!" Fili shouted as his patience ran thin.

Fili saw the instant animosity in Thyra's eyes at his words. But he was grateful that she at least understood the urgency that action needed to be taken. Ignoring Thrade's offered hands, she walked over to Fili and placed her hands on his shoulders. Before putting her foot into his linked hands she looked straight into his eyes.

"He go next," she warned.

Fili nodded then boosted her up into the tree. He then looked to Thrade who had a strange look on his face.

"Your next," Fili said to him.

Without protest Thrade moved and grabbed hold of the lowest branch. Without any assistance he lifted himself up. The moment Thrade moved onto a higher branch, Fili began to pull himself up.

Just as he was about to swing his foot up to the branch, a warg grabbed onto his boot.

Instinctively, he kicked out. The warg let out a high pitched bark as it let go and fell back down to the ground. Thrown off by the tug that resulted in the warg's attack, Fili felt his grip loosen and he began to fall back to the ground. But he came to a sudden halt when something latched on to the back of his coat.

Expecting to see Thrade when he peeked behind his shoulder, he was surprised to see Thyra crouched on a nearby branch with her arm outstretched as she held onto him.

Reclaiming a firm grip, Fili pulled himself up.

As soon as he was steady, he felt the grip on his coat loosen then let go. He looked over to give his thanks but Thyra was already moving up the tree. Her face pinched in anger as she moved up to where Kili and Sigurd were grasping onto the trees' highest branches.

* * *

The pine cones that had once been there saving grace, had suddenly become their doom as fire began to ignite and rise up to the high branches in which the company was forced to retreat. When the first few trees had caught fire and forced them to transition from one tree to another it did not seem that it was on purpose. But with each transition, the accumulation of dwarves per tree grew. Now, they were all cramped onto a single tree at the edge of the cliff with no other tree to move onto.

As Thorin took in the flaming pines that surrounded them, he realized that this had been the intention of the orcs all along. Like sheep being herded they had congregated into a cramped grouping. But it was not to the safety of a grassy hillside or a protective enclosure, instead they had been trapped and cornered by a pack of wolves.

The orcs let out their geers as they called out to the little birdies in the trees and mocked them to take flight. Several wargs tried to claw their way up to those who had been forced to take refuge in the lower branches but were easily deterred when an arrow was shot down or a sword swung low.

There was a sudden ripple of stillness that spread out over the orcs as they all fell silent and the wargs cowarded away with their tails between their legs. Instinct told Thorin that this sudden change of attitude was nothing to be celebrated as a cold chill ran down his spine. It did not take long for this to be confirmed with the approach of a long lost enemy that he had thought to be slain by his own hand decades ago.

"No," he murmured to himself. "It cannot be possible."

* * *

Thorin knew him to be dead, he had slain him himself, yet here he was. Straddling a warg that matched its master in both menace and color, the pale orc known as Azog the defiler, smiled up to the tree above with a nefarious glint written across his face.

First his eyes stopped on Thrya.

" **THANK YOU,"** he said in black speech. " **YOUR ESCAPE HAS PROVEN BENEFICIAL, LITTLE RÉGÍNN."**

Thyra frowned deeply at his words. But when the pale orc's beady eyes caught sight of the male dwarf that was positioned just above him, Thyra was forgotten.

" **VERY BENEFICIAL INDEED,"** he murmured as his eyes lit up.

Thrade was not familiar with black speech himself, but he knew Thyra was fluent in the language. At least more fluent in it than westron.

So when she looked at him with a strange and confused look, he knew that he was not mistaking it when he could have sworn the orc was addressing him specifically. Or at least referring to him.

He felt his brow furrow as he looked back down at the massive orc.

Like Thyra, Thorin had a familiarity with the dark language of the orcs, but as Azog addressed Thyra and Thrade, he began to wonder if perhaps he was not as well versed in the black tongue as he originally thought.

" **IT HAS BEEN A LONG TIME,"** Azog continued as he looked up to Thrade. " **IT SEEMS SOME OF US HAVE CHANGED MORE THAN THE OTHER SINCE THEN. THE YEARS HAVE BEEN GOOD TO YOU BUT TONIGHT THEY END. LIKE YOUR FATHER, SO WILL I END YOU."**

Azog lifted his missing arm and let the metal prongs of his misshapened trident glint in the darkness as a fork of lightning lit up the sky. He gave out a cynical chuckle that sounded more like a growl that a humored tone.

" **I WANT THAT ONE FOR MYSELF,"** Azog announced to his minions as he pointed to Thrade.

His arm then moved down to point to Thyra.

" **THE RÉGÍNN REMAINS ALIVE. SHE WILL PAY FOR THE OTHERS SHE SLAYED"**

Carelessly, he waved his arm around to the rest of the group.

" **THE REST ARE TO BE EXTERMINATED LIKE THE RATS THEY ARE. BUT THE DURIN HEIR IS MINE."**

With his final words, the wargs were sent towards the tree as they scratched and lept against the base of the trunk. Before Thorin could fully make any sense of Azog's confusing words, he felt the tree begin to lean as it began to become uprooted. Just as he felt the shift in the sturdy pine, he was struck with a realization.

Azog had mistaken Thrade as himself.

* * *

Thorin grasped tightly to the thick branch with all his upper strength as the bottom half of his body hung dangerously over the valley below. His mind raced as he heard the cries of strained efforts from his men as they too struggled to stay latched onto the tree that was now over hanging the ledge of the plateau. As his eyes searched out in panic for a better hold in which to keep himself up, he caught a glimpse of Azog approaching.

The massive scarred body of the pale skinned orc moved leisurely with steady steps towards them. But it was not his approach that truly struck fear into Thorin. It was the direction in which his attention was focused.

The orcs small grey eyes were focused on a struggling Thrade at his position closest to the uproot of the tree. The revelation that had dawned upon Thorin just before the tree capsized came flashing back.

It was an instinctual strength that gave him the energy to pull himself up and finally find purchase for his feet against the rough bark of the tree trunk. With steady steps and calm breaths, Thorin walked towards the bottom of the tree. He heard a few cries for him to stop but they went ignored.

Over the past weeks, Thorin had had little time to truly get to know Thrade. But from what little he saw and learned of the young man, any earlier doubt he had was nearly diminished. Though he was still not sure, it was enough in this moment.

Azog had already killed his father but he would not let him kill his son. He would not allow any more loss into Asha's life.

As he approached, he noticed Azog's attention move from Thrade to look at him.

The orc did a double take, his eyes flashing from himself to Thrade before settling back on him. A menacing smile came across the pale orcs face. It was clear understanding written upon his scarred features as he made a connection.

" **IT SEEMS YOU DID GROW UP LITTLE DURIN,"** Azog commented to Thorin. " **LIKE ME YOU TOO HAVE SPAWNED."**

His words sent Thorin into a rage that spurred him forward. With little regard to his kinsmans cries of protest, he sped forward to engage battle with his long ago enemy.

Thorin would not let any harm befall anyone under his care from the pale orc again.

* * *

As the majority of the company surged forward to attack, Kili stayed behind with Sigurd near the edge as they each began to fire arrows at any warg or orc that tried to come near themselves or the rest of the group. An arrow shot by Kili pierced a warg's side as it let out a howl of pain and changed its direction into retreat. With a brief rest, Kili took a moment to glance in Sigurd's direction only to feel his stomach drop.

She was preoccupied with watching the rest of the groups backs that she was failing to watch her own. A warg was charging straight for her as she targeted her arrow and focused her attention in the opposite direction.

"Siggy," Kili cried as he dropped his bow and pulled his sword free from its scabbard.

His call brought her attention but instead of looking towards the danger approaching, she remained unaware as she glanced distractedly at him. The warg lunged, its fangs and claws bared as it soared towards Sigurd. Pushing himself forward, Kili only did what his instincts told him and that was to protect, to keep safe, to prevent.

He lunged forward, his arms wrapping around Sigurd's waist as he collided with her and pulled her down to the ground.

They landed roughly, Kili's body pinning Sigurd down to the rough ground as he turned his head to watch the warg soaring over them, its head snapped wildly in the air as its body flailed around in an attempt to turn around mid air. He did not wait for the feral canine to land.

Pushing off of Sigurd, he quickly stood and ran his sword through the warg's side the moment its feet landed on the ground. It let out a high pitched bark of pain that was cut short as he drove the tip of his sword deeper into its rib cage and the creature fell limply onto the ground.

Breathing heavily Kili quickly turned back around and offered a blood soaked hand out to Sigurd.

"Are you ok?" He asked worriedly.

Wordlessy Sigurd nodded with wide eyes as she reached up to grasp his bloodied hand. But then her face changed as she took in a breath and quickly pointed behind him.

"Ki-Kili lo-look out," she stuttered in warning.

Kili spun as he lifted his sword up not a moment too late as the sharp blade blocked the orc that had been approaching from behind. He continued his thrust up before bringing it back down across the orc's chest. With a strong kick he sent the corpse backwards onto the warg's dead body to form a pile of carcasses.

His heart thudded widely.

It had been close but he felt a small peace in his mind that at least Sigurd was okay.

A gust of wind hit his back as well as the fluttering sound of what Kili thought were wings. He turned around to check on Sigurd but was only greeted by empty air. Sigurd was gone, nowhere to be seen, as if she had disappeared into thin air.

The small peace that had formed early was shattered as a panic formed in his chest. His breathing turned from deep labored breaths from fighting, to fast shallow ones of hyperventilation.

"Siggy!" He cried out.

His wild eyes darted around frantically but only to catch sight of empty ground and sky where the ledge formed. His stomach churned at the sight of the dangerous ledge.

 _Had she fallen or slipped?_

He moved to run to the edge but as he took his first step something strong and forceful wrapped around his body and he felt his feet leave the ground. Kili immediately began to pull at the constricting tightness around his abdomen but stopped when he took in what was holding him.

Large talons grasped around his middle, not hard enough to cause harm but tight enough to keep him firmly within their grasp. Slowly, he looked up to see the wide set of wings and narrowed head of an eagle.

Kili was struck dumb as he gaped in awe.

He had heard tales of the great eagles but he had never imagined their majesty to be so beautiful. Before he could take in the eagle fully, he felt its grip loosen and he was falling down with no time to grab onto anything.

His fall was cut short as he landed on something soft and warm As his fingers grasped onto the surface beneath him he realized it was also feathery. His eyes that had shut when he began to fall through the air snapped open. He was on the back of another eagle as the one that had just dropped him swooped down again towards the ground to where it grabbed Bofur who was still latched onto the over hanging tree.

It was then that he suddenly remembered Sigurd. In his disoriented state of being swept up and dropped he had nearly forgotten that she had suddenly disappeared. He looked around spotting Dori and Ori atop another eagle to his left and below, Dwalin and Bifur rode another. He swiveled around wildly as his eyes searched out and took note of the rest of the company. But with each eagle and newly accounted member of the group, he felt his hysteria rise. Sigurd had still yet to be accounted for.

As if on cue, there was a light thud behind him, accompanied by a small gasp and followed by a constraining pressure around his chest as a pair of arms wrapped around his torso. Kili looked down to see a familiar set of feminine hands tightly gripping onto the front of his tunic as a warm bodice pressed up against his back.

"Siggy?!" He called out as he peeked over his shoulder to see the top of her dark hair wiping around her head and his own shoulder.

Her face was buried into his shoulder and she gave no verbal response to his concerned question. The only response he got was the tightening of the collar of his tunic as Sigurd grasp more tightly to him. Her vice like grip squeezed so tightly he had difficulty breathing each time his chest expanded with each inhale.

"Siggy I cant breath," he said in a breathy tone.

Again she made no response but he heard her voice faintly murmuring to herself. Tilting his ear to hear her better, he caught her mantra faintly between the wind gusts of each flap of the eagles wings.

"Do not look down. Do not look down. Do not look down," she repeated over and over.

It was then he became aware of her trembling body against his back and he made the realization. Sigurd was afraid of heights. It now made sense why she struggled with getting into the tree until Thyra yelled at her.

He put a hand on hers which was chilled in the wind.

"Do not worry Siggy," He said soothingly. "I've got you."

Her grip loosened at his words. Not enough to make a large difference but enough for him to finally take in the oxygen he needed. He smiled slightly. Sigurd was ok. She was close and she was safe.

* * *

Fili felt the gust of wind as another eagle swooped down and took another one of his comrades up into the safety of the air.

Doing his best to not let the fluttering of wings distract him from the orcs that chose to attack him, he continued to fight and hoped that soon all of their group would be swept up into safety.

Throwing a powerful kick up into the belly of an attacking orc, Fili sent the foe tumbling to the ground were he took advantage of his gain and quickly dispensed of the orc. He took a chance to glance around, taking note that the majority of the company was now safe.

He was relieved to see that his brother and uncle were not among those still fighting on the ground. It seemed there where only a few left with himself included. To his left Thrade and Thyra were both engaged in their own duelings. Thrade finished off his enemy quickly before casting a glance to check on Thyra.

The orc she was battling was not particularly large and she too ended its life quickly. However, another orc took advantage of her blind spot as she focused on a different orc that was advancing towards her.

Fili watched as Thrade moved quickly to place himself in between Thyra and the orc sneaking up behind her. His attempt was galliant, Fili noted. But it was also sloppy. His effort was driven out of protective panic rather than calculated defense.

While he achieved placing a protective barrier to Thyra's back, he failed to lift his sword to provide himself with his own protectiveness.

Thankfully Thyra was always aware of her surroundings and she instantly turned at his approach. With a hurried maneuver, Thyra quickly drew her sword up and blocked the orc's crude weapon in time to keep it from descending down upon Thrade. With a gruffness she pushed forward, knocking Thrade to the ground as she quickly shoved the orc back before swiftly slicing her sword across its neck. Blood poured from its throat as it dropped its weapon and let out a gurgled wheeze.

As Fili witnessed this he noticed, that while Thyra easily maneuvered her attacks, it had distracted her from her original foe that was now all too close. Moving into action, Fili quickly sped towards them, his right hand sheathing one of his dual swords before quickly grasping one of his throwing axes attached to his thigh.

With quick movements he drew back his hand and sent the axe flying. It embedded itself into the side of the advancing orcs skull just as it was within attacking range of Thrya and Thrade. He did not slow down until he was at their side.

Thyra had turned around the moment she heard the thud of his axe, alarm in her eyes until she caught sight of the fallen orc as Fili approached her. As soon as he reached them she had moved on to look down at Thrade, a fire in her eyes as she spoke harshly to him.

"You fool!" she growled out along with several words in Régínn that Fili was positive where nothing more than curses.

She opened her mouth again to continue berating him as he picked himself up but was cut off when she was suddenly swept up by an eagle. The sudden disappearance of the Régínn startled both males but before either of them could process what had happened, they too had quickly been swept up. First Thrade, then Fili.

At first Fili struggled against the large birds talons but soon found himself relaxing when he realized he was not in danger. The eagle swept down to dispense him down onto the back of another.

Thyra was already perched on its back, her hair whipping around in the air as she leaned low to the eagle. As Fili was deposited right behind Thyra, she startled at his sudden appearance. Her dark eyes flashed behind her to take in Fili. Her face was void of any emotion but he could see the angry ire within her eyes. Though he was unsure if it was his sudden appearance to be the cause or a remaining anger from earlier.

Whichever the reason, he knew better than to anger her anymore. So he did his best to keep a small distance between them as he held on as best he could. He noticed her body slightly quaking with small tremors and he tried to determine if it was from the cold or from something else entirely. He was prompted to ask her directly but convinced himself to ignore the instinct by reminding himself that she would most likely ignore or refuse any remedy he would be able to provide her.

So instead Fili ignored the woman in front of him as he distracted himself by checking on the welfare of the rest of the group. All seemed well with one exception, his uncle.

Thorin was unconscious and separate from any that could provide him with the aid he needed. Fili caught sight of a worried looking Bilbo who was checking on Thorin from his position above the Durin heir. Fili swallowed nervously as he sent a prayer up to Mahal for his uncle. He was not ready for anything to happen to his uncle, he had to have faith that Thorin would be alright.

. . . . . . . . . .


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Eyrie Encounter

The flight was long and went on through nearly half the night. As the full moon reached its apex, Fili found himself slowly waking from a doze. At first, he was disoriented, confused as to why he could be so warm with such a strong wind of cold air blowing around him.

Then he realized it was the heat of the soft feathers and Thyra's body that had provided warmth. With this realization he bolted up and away from where he had been laying over Thyra's back. As he sat up he cautiously watched her slumped form, awaiting a reaction from the violation of personal space. But she paid him no mind. An indication that she either did not care or she herself had fallen asleep. While Thyra remained slumped forward, he noticed she was still trembling despite the warmth radiating from the great birds feathered back.

His internal debate of whether or not to shed his coat and lay it on her went unfinished when the eagle took an unexpected dive. Instantly, Thyra shot up and leaned back into his chest. He heard her take a hissed breath but gave the sound no more thought as his body instinctively grabbed around her and leaned back as well.

The plunge was over as suddenly as it started when the eagle spread its wings and stretched its legs out to land on a jutted shelf of a cliff.

They landed with a thud and the sound of sticks cracking and breaking beneath the eagles heavy taloned feet filled their ears. The moment the great bird stilled itself, Fili took a moment to realize the reason for the breaking of twigs. The eagle had landed within a large bird nest. The ground and rounded wall surrounding them formed by various woven branches and grasses to create a bowl shaped roost. The eagle stood in the middle, its body taking up the majority of the area with a small space below its body and around the edges.

Thyra all but fell off the moment the eagle indicated that it was ready for them to dismount. With an ungrace she usually did not display, Thyra slide down and landed with a loud crunch as she collapsed onto the branched floor. Fili moved after but not before he noticed the glistening red that had dyed a small spot on the eagles feathers. That was when he remembered the injury he had spotted earlier on Thyra's side.

As soon as he dropped down next to her, he was nearly knocked over by the gust of wind as the eagle took off. Fili swiftly pulled Thyra to the branched wall just in time to clear space for the next eagle to land and deposit its passengers.

One by one the eagles that saved them landed, then took off. With each eagle's landing, the population of occupants within the nest grew until the entire company was deposited into the nest.

Sigurd and Kili came up to Thyra and Fili the moment their own eagle dropped them off. Sigurd took immediate action, squatting down to Thyra to check on her. Thyra remained sitting, propped up against the nests wall and holding her side where Fili had originally situated her.

"Help Thorin," Thyra urged through gritted teeth. Her voice was weak and she was struggling to hide a tremble as she clenched her eyes shut. "I wait."

Her words suddenly caused the other three to still. Fili felt his stomach drop with dread, he had forgotten about his uncle with the distraction of landing inside a nest and moving an injured Thyra out of the way. Sigurd hesitated when both Oín and Gandalf knelt down beside Thorin but with another insistence from Thyra, Sigurd left to aid Thorin while Kili followed after her leaving Fili alone with Thyra again.

Fili was torn. He was struggling with the decision between remaining with Thyra and checking on his uncle. Despite the amount of animosity between them, Fili knew that Thyra was a comrade, and one did not abandon their comrades when they were injured. But then again, Thyra was the one to insisted Thorin get aid first. So he thought perhaps she was not as injured as he suspected. But Thyra was the type to be dedicated to the survival of others than herself. She had certainly shown that when she yelled at Thrade.

In the end, he remained by her side, taking a seat for himself while keeping a small distance away from her. Silence fell over them as he faced the direction of his uncle and watched the two healers and wizard examine his uncle as the rest of the company circled around and watched closely.

"I not die, Feelig," Thyra grunted. "You not stay, seek your uncle."

Fili's eye twitched at the sound of the name that was becoming too familiar. She was not one to be ignorant, he knew she was aware of the proper pronunciation of his name. Therefore he knew she was doing it on purpose.

Why? he did not know, but at the moment, he let it slide.

Her words were spoken in broken Westron and he assumed it was because of the level of pain she was in that kept her from thinking clearly. He could tell she was not even trying to speak properly, just enough to get a discernible enough meaning but nothing more. And she had been successful. Her words, while broken, were understood perfectly by Fili, she was excusing him from his obligation to watch over her.

It could have been interpreted as a kind gesture but Thyra was not kind, at least not to him. So he snubbed that thought as the skeptical voice that had developed over the past month told him that she dismissed him because she did not want him to see her weak.

He glanced once more at his uncle and saw Gandalf whispering words as he touched his head. He caught movement as Thorin began to stir and it was enough to convince Fili that his uncle would be okay. Assured of his uncles well-being, the decision to remain with a comrade became much easier.

"I will remain," he said. "As a comrade I cannot abandon another for my own personal worries. Not until you receive the necessary care for your wounds."

He glanced toward Thrya to see her staring at him with calculative eyes. After a moment she shrugged and muttered some Régan beneath her breath.

There was no interpreting her words but her tone suggested his gesture of proper conduct went disregarded. Her eyes closed and Fili caught sight of her body beginning to slump forward.

"Hey!" he shouted as he shot to his feet and quickly moved to her side. Her nudged her shoulder which elicited a pained hiss from her lips as her torso moved.

Her head lifted back up as her onyx eyes glared up at him.

"Do. Not. Do. That." she threatened darkly.

"Then stay awake," he retorted. "You lost a lot of blood."

"I fine," she sighed out as her head fell back against the woven wall. Her voice contained less venom than before as a tiredness replaced it.

Fili let out a scoff but did not say anything. He knew there would be no point. So instead he sat silently nearby and waited for Sigurd to return.

Thyra embraced his method of waiting and remained silent and still herself.

Occasionally Fili would catch her eyes starting to close. Each time he caught her drifting off he would poke her leg with a stick he had loosened from the nested structure. With each prod he earned himself a death glare but he was beginning to become immune to it. He knew Thyra could hardly move and therefore could not retaliate.

* * *

After things settled down and everyone was assured that he was okay, Thorin found himself on the edge of the nest accompanied by Gandalf and Balin as they all spoke with Gwaihir the Windlord, leader of the great eagles that had rescued them and at the moment, their host.

Gwaihir had sent his brother Landroval to go out and collect food for the company. And it was not long after that the eagle had returned with plenty to feed the hungry company. Landroval had returned barring a large deer in his talons as well as a collection of uprooted berry bushes, heavily ladened with fruit for them to feast on. At the moment, the deer was currently roasting over a small fire that had been carefully lit on the bare stone of the protruding cliff that housed the eagle eyrie. The aroma of searing meat made Thorin's stomach growl, but at the moment he had to ignore the pain in his belly as he concentrated on the conversation at hand.

The eagle lord spoke to them in Westron but it was a challenge for Thorin to understand without paying close attention. His words were coupled with inbetween screeches that made it challenging to comprehend his words.

Gwaihir began by sharing his recent observations in orc activities in the recent months. He spoke about a gathering in the north and large groups traveling across the land. Once he learned of the intentions of the company, he gave Thorin a warning that he should expect more than just the slaying of a dragon to signify his success in reclaiming Erebor.

Thorin did not like his words but he was beginning to understand that perhaps his quest would prove to be even more difficult. With this thought, he was suddenly relieved to know that he already had a small army headed to meet him there.

At the conclusion of their discussion, Gwaihir offered the hospitality of his nest for them to rest for the remainder of the night, and in the morning, he would fly them as far as Carrock.

Thorin would have rather them take them the rest of their journey but Gwaihir proclaimed he was too fearful to near the lands where men dwelt. In past history they would send arrows at them in fear of the great eagles stealing their livestock. Therefore, Thorin was forced to be thankful that at least he would save nearly two weeks travel time of Gwaihir's offer to take them as far as Carrock.

Following their meeting, the company gathered together to feast upon the meal that had been provided for them. Thorin was happy to see all those of his company had survived with minor casualties. The only ones seeming to have really sustained noticeable wounds hand been himself and Thrya. At the thought of the Régínn, Thorin looked over to the girl as he watched her healer companion tend to her wounds.

* * *

As Sigurd slowly lifted Thyra's shirt she let out a grimace as she gently helped Thyra remove her arm from her right leave to fully expose the would. With a small request from Sigurd, Thyra gingerly repositioned herself sideways to allow Sigurd better access.

Fili cringed the moment he caught a glimpse of the wound. It was not just a cut as he previously thought. On her right side, just above her hips and below the fabric bands of her chest bindings, there was a large weeping wound that consumed the majority of her side. Chard flesh was surrounded by seeping boils where it was obvious that someone had placed a heated blade against her skin several times.

"Thyra how did this happen," Sigurd said quietly as she gently examined the wound before she began treating it.

Fili noticed Thyra's hands trembling and realized why she had been trembling earlier when they were in flight. It was not because she was angry or cold. It was because she was in excruciating pain. He looked at Thyra's face which was slightly turned away from the group. Her jaw was clenched tightly and she flinched when Sigurd prodded a particularly sensitive spot. When Sigurd repeated her question Thyra only clenched her eyes shut and shook her head.

Kili watched Sigurd carefully clean the burnt flesh on Thyra's side then gently prepare a salve which she smoothed over the raw and red skin. Occasionally she would ask for his help in passing something to her or holding something, but for the majority he mostly sat and watched her work. As he watched he could not determine which one was more brave, Thyra for enduring or Sigurd for having the stomach to look at the wound. He himself could only manage to catch quick glimpses before feeling like he would lose his meal of roasted deer meat and berries.

With a little coaxing in Régan, Sigurd had finally managed to get Thyra to finally speak with her. But it was only in her native tongue that Thyra would say anything.

While Kili knew nothing of the language, he listened to the quiet exchange of words as Sigurd gently cared for her companion. Their conversation was short and Kili could tell that Sigurd wanted more. But Thyra was quick to become quiet as Sigurd began to cover the wound with several long bandages that she wrapped protectively around the well treated burns.

All while Sigurd worked, Thyra gave out no cry of pain and hardly showed any indication of the level of pain the wound was causing.

She had done well to hide it earlier but now it was obvious that the injury had caught up to her. With the adrenaline brought on by her escape and their short battle now depleted, Thyra sat as her entire body shook. Kili was amazed by how well she was baring it all with hardly any other signs. That was until he noticed the wet hairs of her lashes, caused by the small tears that managed to seep out from under her tightly shut eyelids.

As Sigurd finished, he watched her say a few words to Thyra who shook her head in reply before waving her off. Sigurd frowned at the dismissal but eventually decided to let it go as she stood up to dispose of the bloody cloth she had used to clean Thyra's wounds.

As soon as Sigurd left, Thyra stiffly stood up as well and walked towards Thrade. As she neared him, she muttered something to him then continued walking towards an unoccupied area of the nest.

* * *

Sigurd returned not long after and settled back down beside Kili. Immediately she searched out where Thyra disappeared, only to frown when she caught sight of her with Thrade. Kili glanced in their direction as well to see them standing closely together and seeming to be in a lowered but heated argument.

"Is she going to be okay?" Kili asked, trying to distract Sigurd from the quarreling pair.

His question did as he intended as she peeled her eyes from the couple to look at him. Her blue eyes met his own soft brown as she took in the sight of his comforting and warm gaze.

"Physically yes," Sigurd replied after a moment. "There will be scarring and it will take time but eventually it will heal."

Kili nodded then processed her words.

"You said physically," he pointed out. "You are worried about her differently."

Sigurd gazed moved back towards Thyra who was now yelling at Thrade in a mixture of Régan and Westron.

"She blames herself," she said quietly.

"For what?"

"For the orcs attacking us. She says she was not paying attention when she was trying to catch up to us and got caught. They tortured her. She would not say why but she managed to get free. She blames herself for rushing to find us instead of losing them then meeting up with us."

Kili frowned.

"She cannot blame herself for that. She was injured, she needed help."

Sigurd nodded in agreement.

"I know that, but Thyra does not. She does not value her life, at least not right now while she is under a life debt. To be honest I sometimes wonder what kind of life she lived before she came here. She is tough and uncaring on the outside but if you really look, you see a more tender side to her."

Kili thought back to when Thyra had orchestrated the opportunity in which he was able to dance with Sigurd. It was a memory he still cherished closely and thought of often. He was always wondering when the next time he would have the honor to repeat such an activity again in the future.

"It is like she is afraid to care for others but cannot help it," Sigurd continued. Her head eventually fell down as she looked down at her hands. "I wish she would just talk to me. She keeps too many secrets and it is not healthy."

Kili lay a hand on her leg, causing her to look up at him, distress reflected in her eyes.

"She is lucky to have someone like you to care for her," Kili said tenderly.

Sigurd looked down at his hand and softly placed her hand on his as she looked back up at him.

"Thank you Kili," she said with a small smile. "You are a good friend."

Kili's smile faltered slightly as she looked away to watch Gandalf and Bilbo blow smoke rings into the night air. He appreciated their friendship, but with each passing day, things were beginning to become difficult to distinguish the intentions of his actions.

At first he meant everything in friendship. From his past history of a fickle heart, he had expected things to fade just like the other girls. But as time went on his feelings had only grown stronger. At memory of thinking had happened to her earlier, he knew that his feelings surpassed anything he had ever felt in the past. Now, he wanted something more substantial than just friendship and it was time to make it clear.

He glanced around and noticed that they were relatively alone. If they spoke low enough, no one would overhear their conversation.

Over the past weeks, privacy seemed to be scarce and there had been a topic in which Kili had been wanting to address with Sigurd for quite some time. Seeing his opportunity, Kili decided that it was time to address that certain subject.

"Siggy," he began, causing her to look up at him.

Her sudden attention made his stomach twist in nervous knots as he thought of what he was about to say. His throat felt dry and he almost believed he was incapable of producing words. He swallowed dryly and cleared his throat.

"I...I wanted to...my feelings…I like..."

He struggled and floundered for the right words that would express his heart. As she looked at him attentively, her face was expectant but then turned confused the longer he stumbled over his words. This only served to make his mind panic as he realized that he needed to convey his feelings clearly so there would no longer be any misinterpretation of intention behind his gestures. He wanted his meaning to be clear.

But before he could recollect himself or find his courage, Fili strolled up and took a seat next to them. At his brothers appearance, Kili was not sure if he was grateful or begrudging of his interruption. His opportunity was gone and there was no telling when he would receive another chance. But now he had the chance to better prepare himself and rehearse before he spoke to her.

Soon Sigurd became engrossed in conversation with Fili and as the pair talked, Kili sat silently as he struggled with himself in the confines of his mind. He had been a coward and Sigurd still did not know of his feelings. But most importantly, he did not know if she harbored anything more than just a simple friendship.

* * *

While it was obvious that Thyra had wanted to keep things quiet and discreet as she took Thrade away to speak with him, things had escalated quickly. Their conversation was not easy to follow as Thyra kept her voice low but it seemed the more Thrade continued to disagree with her reprimand, the less patience Thyra had.

Thorin watched the two arguing back and forth. He caught only bits and pieces of the argument before Thyra gingerly stomped away as she did her best to keep her torso stiff as she limited her movement to avoid more pain.

Thrade was left behind to kick angrily at an innocent twig that protruded from the woven bottom of the nest. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he wandered over to the edge and planted himself against the wall farthest from the rest of the group. For one moment, his hazel eyes flashed up to Thyra where he watched her settle in with the two princess and Sigurd. Thorin could see the tightness of the muscles in his jaw strain for several minutes before he finally let his eyes fall down and stare down at his feet with a downcast face.

Thorin accepted the fact that he would never have children of his own long ago. After he heard of the demise of the Brimir's main branch family, Thorin knew he would never have love between himself and another woman ever again. While he knew he would never share love for none other than Asha, he thought perhaps he could find a good woman that he could tolerate and even have a good friendship. A friendship that could perhaps result in a union of marriage and perhaps produce offspring.

It would be a loveless marriage but he had hopes that it could be a companionable union. But as the years progressed and things seemed to only get darker with the loss of his brother in law, his father, and his grandfather; Thorin realized it would never happen. Each time he even entertained the idea it felt like betrayal. It is why he named Fili his heir, knowing he would someday be a good ruler. He just had more to learn.

When Vili passed, Thorin knew that Dis would never remarry, and he knew that his nephews needed a father figure. So he took it upon himself to fill the role. He had been there for all the moments that Vili should have.

He had watched both of them take their first steps, taught them how to wield a weapon, and disciplined them when they missbehaved. He had lead Fili to be compassionate and strong and he had taught Kili how to be optimistic and proud of himself.

While there were many things he took upon himself to fill the void of an absent father, there were still a few things that Thorin had never done. Some were taken care of by their mother but some, he had never had to encounter.

Speaking to either of them in the matters of love went unneeded. Fili always did well when it came to his relationships with people, and while he knew the boy to have possessed some innocent crushes, Thorin was positive that Fili had never needed to speak on any deeper emotional topics. He was too preoccupied with becoming a leader to truly focus on any serious courtship, though he had plenty of hopefully lasses back in the blue mountains. But Fili was still young, and Thorin knew that when the time came, he would easily find himself a good wife without complication.

Kili's situation was different, almost opposite of his brother. But despite Kili's struggles, Thorin had never needed to speak to him. Fili had always taken it upon himself to aid his brother in the matters of wooing maidens. And when Kili failed in successfully executing Fili's advice, Dis had always been there to pick up the pieces of his heart and mend it back together.

As he realized his lack of knowledge in handling such matters, Thorin was confused as to why he felt the need to approach Thrade. He hardly knew the boy. And his history on the topic of love was messy and a failure. He was the last person who should be giving any advice on the subject. Yet he could not help it. It was instinctual. To see Thrade so defeated, he had to try.

With slow strides he finally came up to the distraught looking young man and took a seat beside him. The twigs and branches cracked and snapped beneath his weight but Thorin ignored the sounds as he focused on the young man beside him. Thrade cast a small glance his way, and seeing who was sitting beside him, quickly adjusted posture as he attempted to swipe at his eyes without any notice.

"I am sorry for the disturbance earlier, sir...err...Thorin," he corrected as he sat up higher. "I give you my word it will never happen again. It was inappropriate and I promise…"

"It is of no consequence. Your apology is in no need," Thorin assured him lightly.

Thrade watched him for a moment then nodded. Slowly, as if unable to keep himself from looking, Thrade's eyes slowly trailed back to Thyra. Thorin watched this action and pulled his mouth sympathetically. It was similar to the looks that Kili gave to the maidens he wished for.

"You know, they say love is the most painful thing one can experience in life. Yet, somehow it is what the majority of us spend our whole lives looking and hoping to experience."

At Thorin's words Thrade quickly snapped his attention away from Thyra.

"I am not…" he began but at the look Thorin gave him, he hunched over in defeat. "Is it that obvious?"

Thorin was tempted to chuckle but knew it would not help the young man's low moral. "Have you told her?"

Thrade looked down at his feet, his face turning red as he shook his head. "Not fully, but I know she is aware of it. Thyra is not oblivioius, she is perceptive and knows a person's intentions behind their actions. Sometimes I think she even knows before that person is aware of what they are doing themselves."

Thorin let out a slight chuckle and nodded his agreement to the statement. Thrade managed a small smile that faded quickly as a downcast expression overtook his face.

"She did not always push me away," Thrade continued in a somber tone. "In her first years, she at least treated me like a friend. She taught me a little Régan and spent time with me alone. But then something changed a couple years ago."

"Friendship does not describe our relationship anymore. It is more or less master and servant...at least that is how she treats it. She stopped accepting my help and began to get angry anytime I showed her any value or made an action to express…" he drifted off as his mind wandered for a moment before continuing with a different thought. "Things have gotten slightly better in the last year but she is still wary and hesitant to accept anything from me."

His head hung low as he shook it side to side.

"I just do not understand why she cannot let me take care of her."

Thorin thought back to their interactions in the last month that Thrade had been with them. He had noticed Thyra's hesitancy to Thrade's gestures. But she did not seem to treat him any differently than she would any other person in their group.

Though now that he thought about it, perhaps that was not the best comparison. Thyra had opened slightly to the rest of the company but she still held herself at a distance. She interacted with them, helped them, and occasionally offered gestures of what could be friendships, but she was still very closed off.

"Was there anything that occurred that would cause such a change?" Thorin asked, trying to deduce what insight he could give to ease the younger man's turmoil. "You said she acted differently until a few years ago."

Thrade looked pensive as he considered Thorin's inquiry. Suddenly a brightness came to his face as he reached a thought.

"She found out who Asha was."

Thorin looked at him in confusion and Thrade expanded his explanation.

"Most people who join the guild do not know who my mother once was. They only know her as Asha, leader of the guild not Rashava of the Brimir's. They are unaware of my mother's heritage, courtesy of the rules established by herself."

He let out a slight snort of amusement.

"But the rules do not necessarily stop people from whispering amongst each other. One night, Sigurd, Thyra, and I heard some people talking and we ducked down to avoid being seen. As a younger generation, we were always curious about the reason why we had certain rules. Specifically, the forbiddance of speaking about life before the guild. Sigurd and I had collected bits here and there but we were always looking for more."

"It was my mother's cousin and another distant relative we were listening in on. They spoke of family and how it was a shame that my mother would not take up the role she was born to be, they wanted her to establish a new kingdom. They had heard what you had done with your own people and they wished to do the same."

Thorin was not sure he could really be given the honor of having established a kingdom. Their home back in the blue mountains was nothing comparable to Erebor. But before he could correct Thrade, the younger man had already moved on.

"Most people who know her true heritage, especially those who are originally from Dhom, only stay because of an underlying dedication to the Brimir royal family," Thrade explained. "At least that is what I believe. I think many of the guild truly desire to settle down but they are too loyal in following the family line to leave."

"Anyways," Thrade said as he brought his side tangent to a close and continued on with his original story, "the information was nothing new to Sigurd and myself so we dismissed it. But Thyra would not let it go. She confronted me about it and asked if I was of royal blood. I confirmed that yes it was true that my mother would be queen making me a prince and heir to a throne," Thrade shook his head in puzzled frustration. "I do not know why, but she became distressed. Nearly bolted away from us after going ghostly pale. Since then things have always been different, distant. I believe the only reason why she even talks to me at all or treats me civilly is because of the sworn oath. She gives me respect as one would who is in service of another but I do not like it."

"Your mother informed me that Thyra has an aversion to power...or at least leadership," Thorin said. "I can assume that she is intimidated by your lineage."

Thrade shrugged.

"I do not see why," he said. "It is not as if I am really a prince. My title is nothing, my mother has declared the Brimir line dead."

Thorin pondered his words then let out a sigh.

"I know you did not grow up amongst a society of nobles and rulers. By what I know of the Guild you are all equals." Thrade nodded and Thorin continued. "I mean no disrespect to your mother, she did what she thought was right, but might I shed some hard knowledge and truth upon you?"

Thrade nodded in consent and Thorin proceeded.

"Your lineage will always follow you no matter what. Whether you are a pauper on the streets or sitting upon a throne. People will always see your blood right," Thorin said plainly. "I was once a prince of Erebor. I was raised and tutored to become a king but that throne was taken from my family. In the western mountains I am blacksmith. At least that is how I have supported my family after the failed reclaim of Moria. But my people never forgot who I was or who Fili will someday be. Your mother is no different, her people will never forget who she is. And someday you will fill that place in their eyes and hearts."

He gazed up at the stars, taking in their shimmering light as they watched over him and his small band of men.

"I lost my throne, yet here we are on a quest to reclaim it," he continued as he looked back down to Thrade. "Your story is no different than mine. If you wanted it, you could reclaim your right and no matter what your mother says, you would have followers," he said confidently. "You must never underestimate that people will not take it under consideration that you are of royal blood. No matter the lack of a throne, you are one of noble birth."

Thorin's face turned more serious as his tone took on a note of warning.

"People will try to always treat you differently if they possess this knowledge. Therefore you should always be wary of who you intrust this knowledge to. If a person should find out they could easily take advantage of it and will try to manipulate you. You will also have people who will follow you blindly, it is why you must be aware of your actions. Someone will always be watching you for strengths and weaknesses. Never," he said with emphasis, "under any circumstances, think your lineage no longer matters."

Thrade looked down at his feet, his face slightly strained and conflicted.

"I wish my mother was not so secretive…" He gazed out longingly at Thyra with a sigh. "I do not know what to do. She yelled at me for saving her life. Yet all my life I have been taught to protect the ones you love, no matter the sacrifice. I would do anything for her, yet she acts as if I have offended and brought dishonor upon her when I try to show her any level of worth."

"Love goes two ways. You cannot force it upon another if they do not want it," Thorin said, his tone was one of a slight sympathetic apology. "It is not easy, but you also have to consider the other person's happiness. I do not doubt you would do everything in your power to make her happy. But she deserves a say as well. I am sure she has her reasons and perhaps her coldness is her way of not hurting you."

Thrade's eyes looked confused at first but after a long pause, he seemed to form an understanding of what Thorin was suggesting. A comfortable silence fell between them as they each observed the group from afar and they let their minds wander with their own thoughts. After awhile, Thrade turned to Thorin and asked him a question that caught him off guard.

"Is that what happened to you?"

Thorin looked at Thrade, a look of confusion on his face as he failed to understand to what Thrade was referring to.

"Pardon?"

"I know you are unmarried and have no children of you own. Fili told me that you had named him heir," Thrade explain. "So I was wondering, is that why you never married? Because a certain woman did not want to be with you."

Thorin stared silently at Thrade for a long moment before he cast his eyes to the ground, a frown pulling at his lips. This was not a conversation he was quite ready for. It was a conversation he thought he would never have to discuss.

Those closest to him always knew not to bring up the subject and those not so close would never dare to speak of such personal subjects with him.

"I am sorry," came Thrade's quick apology upon seeing Thorin's reaction. "I should not have asked...it was intrusive of me."

Thorin quickly looked up at him and waved off his apology.

"No it is not. You are welcome to inquire anything of me," he assured the younger man. After a long pause during which Thorin collected his thoughts into a response, he began to speak. "I once fell in love when I was not much younger than you...perhaps maybe closer to Fili but…" he trailed off, not sure what to say. "It was not of the same situation as yours but it...ended poorly. I was young and circumstances were not in our favor."

"What happened?" Thrade asked as he listened intently.

Thorin was unsure of how much to divulge. He did not know what Asha had already said to him, if anything, about her past with the Durin's. So he decided to turn things around and do his own inquiring before he said anything specific.

"What history has your mother spoke to you about me?"

The question seemed to catch Thrade off guard, telling Thorin that he most likely did not know much. Or at least was unsure of how the connection of his lost love and his history with Asha were connected.

"Not much," Thrade responded finally as his hazel eyes searched Thorin's for answers of his motivation. "I know of the feud and the occurrence between your brother and the Brimir member."

"Ivor," Thorin supplied. "Do you know who he was?"

Thrade nodded slowly and swallowed.

"Yes. He was my mother's late husband."

"She told you this?"

Thrade shook his head.

"No. But as I said, we have the rules but people talk."

"Your tone suggests you have no curiosity or connection with him?" Thorin commented.

He thought it was strange that he would have such a nonchalant tone when speaking of his mother's previous marriage.

Thrade shrugged.

"I never knew the man, therefore he means nothing to me."

Thorin's brow creased.

"You have never wondered about the man who fathered you."

Thrade looked at him strangely.

"Of course...but that man was not my father."

A lump formed in Thorin's throat and he struggled to swallow.

"You know your father?" Thorin asked in a strangled tone.

Thrade's continence changed. Thorin could see the confliction and hesitation in his face.

"No...not exactly," he admitted with a slight tinge of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. When Thorin gave him a questioning look Thrade spoke on. "I know it sounds foolish but...I just know. There are only a few occasions that my mother has spoken of Ivor and even rarer occasions when she would slip out a comment about my father. Something I did or said that she would say reminded her of him. Everyone always says Ivor is who she is speaking of but I can tell a difference. When my mother speaks of Ivor it is out of respect for the dead...never sadness or heartache. Just...remembrance... for what he did when Dhom was attacked."

Thorin grasped onto every word that Thrade spoke. As Thrade continued, Thorin felt his heart begin to steadily beat faster and despite the cool breeze that blew up the high cliffs of the eyrie, he grew uncomfortably warm.

"When she speaks of my father t's always a sad fondness yet there is always a layer of hurt and betrayal." Thrade shook his head. "Does that even make any sense?"

Thorin nodded but found himself unable to speak. Thrade let out a sigh and looked down at his feet.

"I used to ask her all the time about him but when I was old enough to recognize the pain in her eyes, I stopped asking." Thrade continued. "Sometimes I hate him for causing her such pain but it never lasts and all that is left is guilt. Guilt for being ungrateful for at least having a mother. Ullike Sigurd," he commented. "She too only had one parent but it was brief and Sigurd was never treated with any amount of love she deserved yet she stays loyal to the memory of her mother, despite the lack of affection."

Thrade went quiet for a moment then let out a heavy sigh.

"I am sure he has a valid reason for not being in my life, alive or dead, I just wish I knew more of him. When my mother does speak of him, she always sings his praises. He must have been a great man for her to never waver or let anyone else into her life."

Thrade let out a small chuckle.

"Mahal knows I had to chase away enough suitors as a child. Though that was probably unnecessary given the fact she would never allow any attention from men."

Thrade smiled slightly as he gazed up to the sky.

"Is it strange to want to make a faceless and nameless man proud?" he wondered allow.

Thorin could no longer remain silent as Thrade's hazel eyes, the eyes of his mother, looked at him pleadingly to give him any words of wisdom.

"Any man would be a fool to not be proud to have you as a son," Thorin said honestly.

Thrade's face split into a grin.

"You know I used to pretend my father was off having adventures and fighting," he confessed, his face turned slightly pink as he spoke of his childish daydreams. "I used to imagine him like you. Gathering his people and building a new home. I used to imagine that he would someday come to the guild proclaiming that he had a home ready for us and he needed his family to finally join him."

Thorin could not help but smile in response. He liked the image of it and could not help but want to make that dream a reality.

"Perhaps one day he will," he said with a confident tone.

. . . . . . . . . . . .. .

 **So this chapter kind of followed the book version a little more. I know it is not certain that Gwahir and Landroval are not for certain the eagles that saved them but I am going to go with it.**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: The Carrock Encounter

Asha lingered in the back of the assembled army as they traveled through the last mountain pass of their journey. It had been a grueling trek as they had made it through the mountain range, nearly twice as fast as it would normally take them.

Perhaps for a few it would not have been as difficult to achieve but the Guild was not just an army, it was a roving city. That meant shelters, livestock, trade shops, and wagon loads of provisions. And Asha had pushed them forward, taking the lead and setting a brutal pace for her people to follow. But then the group that had been sent down to the brown lands arrived she began to slow their pace and took up the rear of the caravan.

One week ago, the group had caught up with them. All of them safe, all of them well. All of them, except Thrade. Thrade was gone and no one knew where he was.

It had taken a forceful Habard to pull her away from the captain of the group when she had begun shouting. She was not one for violence against her own people, but Habard had seen her do things she did not normally do when under great stress. And the disappearance and unknown welfare of her son was enough to push her limits. So he took her away from the unfortunate captain, who had already received her verbal wrath, and attempted to soothe her ire.

Thrade often broke apart from his groups and ventured off on his own short quests. Each time he did this he usually came in a few days later, unharmed, and unaware of the distress that he had brought upon his mother. It was one of the things he had always done as a child and despite the many reprimands and punishments she had given him, he never learned and continued it to this day.

"We need to send out a search party for him," Asha quickly stated once Habard had distanced her from the majority of the group.

"We need to keep moving forward," Harbard argued. "We have made good timing but we still have quite a bit of distance to cover."

"Then you go a head, I will go look for him," she stated as she turned for a south bound walk.

She was stopped when he grabbed a hold of her arm. She twisted around to shoot him a glare that he had become immune to over the years.

"No you don't," he said firmly.

"Why not?" She growled out between her teeth.

"Firstly, because you need to lead your people," Habard provided as he held up a finger. "And secondly," he threw up a second finger, "Thrade does this all the time. He will be fine, I promise." When she failed to look completely sold on the idea, Habard added, "he will probably come waltzing into camp in a few days with a smile on his face and bearing gifts for you and Sigurd. Then he will start to seek out Thyra in hopes to finally woe the girl before he realizes that she and Sigurd are not even with us."

She knew Habard was right. They had witnessed the scene he had painted countless times. She herself could already predict the argument they would have when he found out who Sigurd and Thyra were with.

He would announce that he was going to meet up with them, she would tell him that they could be anywhere between the misty mountains and the mirkwood. He would say that he could track them and she would argue that they were all headed for the same place so he would be better off staying with the guild.

She smiled at the thought and gazed down the trail they had just passed through as if expecting Thrade to suddenly come running up the path.

Normally Habard's assurances would calm the urgency to back track and find her son, but there was something that felt different about this time. It was an inkling. An instinct that said her son was not going to do those things. Something within her whispered that Thrade would not be coming back this time.

And she had been right.

It had been a week since then and there was still no sign of Thrade. For what felt like the hundredth time that morning, she looked behind her; hoping, wishing to see her son wandering up the muddy path that the caravan had made. But like the other ninety-nine times she had looked, she was again disappointed.

"Do you still feel the danger?"

At the sound of Habard's concerned voice, she turned to look into the man's grey eyes. He had been inquiring of the feeling she had yesterday evening. It had come on so suddenly she had shivered at the sudden goosebumps that had formed on her arms as the hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

It was a strange phenomenon but she suddenly felt as if Thrade was in danger, that something sinister and dangerous was near him. But by midnight, the feeling had faded. And all morning she felt such a calming peace within herself that she thought she had imagined everything the previous night. For a moment she searched within herself, looking for any lingering evidence of the disturbance. When she failed to find any traces, she finally shook her head.

"No," she said steadily. "In fact, I feel as though everything is strangely okay, as if he has protection."

Habard seemed relieved by this news and his face relaxed as he nodded and put a steady hand on her shoulder.

"Trust that instinct, wherever he is, trust that he is in good hands.

* * *

Thorin and Thrade sat atop Landroval with their coats pulled tightly to keep warm from the cold air and wind that came with flying high in the sky. As promised, Gwaihir and several others of the convocation of eagles that resided in the cliffside eyrie, took the company onto their backs once more and took flight at first light.

The day was long and tiring despite their lack of physical exertion as they sat atop the brown and gold flecked feathers of the eagles. They flew high amongst the clouds, using the soft mountain peaks to hide them from curious eyes that could quickly become their enemy.

The sun was setting in the west by the time the eagles began to descend beneath the floor of clouds that had been the only thing visible for the entirety of the ride.

As they broke through the clouds, the colorless canvass was erased with a brilliant and sudden display of lush colors as they took in the topography. Rolling hills covered in purple cloves, variant greens of the different species of trees and plant life, and the iridescent flow of a river that meandered lazily through the grasslands. Towering above the colors, stood a high peaked rock formation. Its bottom half painted green while its grey rocky peak was left bare of foliage as it curled to a point.

"Carrock," Thorin heard Gandalf announce loud enough from his perch on Gwaihir's back who sailed next to his Landroval.

At the announcement, Landroval stretched out his large wings and slowed down their velocity enough to make a soft landing upon the rock formations top. Thorin and Thrade immediately slid down to the rocky ledge then moved away before Landroval flapped his powerful wings and with a mighty gust, took flight.

The space in which he left was soon filled by another eagle which deposited Fili and Kili. And like the night before, the company was slowly reunited a top the tower of rock as eagle after eagle unloaded their passengers. Gwaihir landed last with his back to the east as Gandalf and Bilbo slid down to join the rest of the company.

"This is as far as we venture Durin's heir," Gwaihir said as he looked at Thorin.

Thorin gave a grateful bow and the eagles neck twisted slightly to look at all of them.

"Farewell," he said, letting his eyes rest upon each of them, "wherever you fare, till your eyries receive you at the journey's end."

As the eagle gave a bow of his head and prepared to take flight, Gandalf stepped forward.

"May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks," he said on behalf of the company.

Gwaihir gave a screech of approval and with a gust of wind that set several of them off their feet, he took to the air. As his body rose, he revealed the skyline to the west and several astonished gasps escaped the lips of the dwarves.

Thorin felt his own lips part as he took in the sight. Green, with hints of the approach of autumn covered the lower half of the skyline. Above the trees and grasslands the sky was burnt red and orange as pale pinks blotched the median between the two colors. Between the two, between the sky and the earth, centered and standing alone, was the lonely mountain.

"Erebor," he heard Balin breath out religiously.

Thorin's heart sang at the sound of the glorious name of his home, his kingdom. The road so far had not been what he expected. He knew it would not be easy starting off, but it had certainly not played out in the way he visualized it. There had been too many unexpected appearances, too many life altering revelations, and more sinister things than he had predicted.

And he feared that there were many more to come.

But at the moment he could not let that bother him. Because before him sat the greatest sight he had seen in a long time. _Home._

* * *

They spent the last of the days light descending the tall tower of Carrock then made camp at the bottom where the river provided them with fresh water and fish for their meal.

Fili and Kili were making their way back to camp by the guidance of the full moon after making a quick check of the perimeter before they turned in for the night. As they walked side by side, Fili noticed that something was off with his brother. He had been awfully quiet since the night before.

While they had had a close encounter with their hunters that could leave a person slightly rattled, Fili had an instinct that it was something else that bothered his younger sibling.

"What wisdom do you seek little brother?" He asked, slipping into their old ways.

It was a practice they had done for as long as Fili could remember. From the first time Kili wanted help with simple matters such as buckling his boots and how to tie a fish hook, to more serious matters such as understanding politics and weilding a weapon.

Ever since they were little, Fili discovered that his younger brother did not ask for help. Fili did not know why his brother refused to ask. He had his ideas but he was not certain.

For years he watched his brother struggle to learn things on his own. He had first asked it when they were still very young. For nearly an hour Fili watched as Kili struggled to hold his pencil correctly when working on their lessons.

It would slip when his grip was too loose while the tip broke when he pushed too hard.

It was then that the oddly phrased question fell from his mouth. He was not sure why he had asked it but it had worked, and with an invitation, Kili freely inquired how to properly hold his pencil.

Since then, all Fili had to do was provide an opening, an invitation, and like how a moth is unable to resist a flame, Kili could not resist those five words.

As if on cue, Kili let out a heavy sigh. "I cannot seem to get Siggy to understand the way I feel about her," he said as he rubbed the back of his head in frustration.

Fili frowned, he was hoping the issue would be something on another topic. In honesty any topic would have been better for a couple reasons. The first being that he did not have any advice to give on matters of the heart. He himself had limited experience, at least for anything along the lines of actual persule of courtship. The second being that he had hoped his brother had finally given up on gaining Sigurd's attentions and settled for good friendship.

He had thought that had been the case for the past few days when Kili had been spending not quite as much time with her. But alas, it seemed his brother had just been a little more subtle in his attempts to win her affections lately and had only been holding back to asses his tactics from afar.

"Perhaps you should not worry about her understanding...at least not yet." Fili quickly added when he saw his brother's posture seemed to deflate. He laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Right now you should stay focused on the quest at hand. There will be plenty of time for courtship when we had reclaimed Erebor."

"But will there be?" Kili inquired sceptically. Fili furrowed his brows and his brother explained further. "She is part of the Guild, what if after this, they leave and just disappear?"

Fili had no answer for him because he too had often wondered the same things. What would become of the Guild? Would they disband? Would they continue on? Leave and disappear? They had always been nothing but stories and rumors before, would they become that once again?

Part of the deal Asha had made with Thorin was to allow any dwarf that wished to become citizens would be welcomed. If so, would Sigurd be among that number? She did not seem to be one to travel with an army where violence and killing was part of their daily life. But she was attached to Asha. From what Fili had gathered, Asha and Thrade were the closest thing she had to a family throughout the majority of her life. Would she leave them for Erebor?

He did not think so, and if that was the case, it would only hurt his brother more. Kili was already far more attached to Sigurd than he had ever seen him fall for a maiden. What would become of his brother then?

"I know our journey is not the time for such things," Kili continued," but I cannot ignore my feelings. I have tried to keep them contained, but over the past weeks it is as if my mind, my body, and my heart cannot contain it anymore. It is like when a river becomes dammed up, at first the water will cease to flow, but eventually it will build up and overflow. Last night, before the eagles had come, I thought she had died, and I..."

Fili looked directly at his brother and met his eyes when his words faltered.

They had come to a stop next to a large oak tree that stood alone. The silver moon lit up their vicinity except for a darkened shadow caused by the great oak that stretched out alongside the path that led back to their camp. Where they had stopped, the moonlight was cast down directly onto Kili, giving every feature of his face the perfect lighting for Fili to see every emotion and feeling.

While it gave Fili a clear reading of his features, he almost wished that this night was a moonless night, for in his brothers face he saw a haunting anguish as Kili's eyes became glazed over as his thoughts seemed to replay the event.

"And what," Fili gently prodded, not liking to see the distress upon his brothers face.

"I don't know how to describe it," Kili said finally as he cast his eyes down to the ground in concentration. "But it hurt. Here," he said rubbing his chest. "In those few moments that I could not find her, it felt as if someone had run me through and left a gaping hole that did not kill me, it just left me empty. Standing, breathing, living, but soulless."

A shiver ran down Fili's spine as he tried to imagine such a thought. The movement caught Kili's attention and he looked back up at his brother. Fili frowned at the expectant look in his brother's eyes. He was not sure how to advise his brother. When Fili did not offer an immediate reply, Kili went on.

"I know you disapprove," Kili began and when Fili opened his mouth to disagree, he was stopped when Kili held up a hand. "I know you brother, you have always worried about me. I have seen you watching and disapproving since we began. I know it is not that you disapprove of Sigurd...how could anyone," he said with a wane smile, "But I know you disapprove because you fear that I will be hurt. That I will be heartbroken again. And perhaps this is how it will end and it will be painful. But it will at least be an end to this wondering of what could be."

He looked at Fili with an imploring need in his eyes.

"So please brother, if you have any wisdom, any advice on how to speak to her and get her to understand my true feelings, give it."

Fili looked at his brother with difficulty. He wanted to encourage him, he wanted to see him happy. But he found he could not look him fully in the eye, fearing that his brother would see the pity. For as much as Fili wanted things to end well, he had calculated it already in his head. Numerous times over the months and even now he reran the equation, unfortunately he ended up with the same answer every time.

"Declare to her you have feelings of romantic nature."

At the unexpected sound of Thyra's broken accent coming suddenly from their right, the two brothers startled and quickly shifted to look in the direction from where it came.

At first it was as if the voice had emitted from thin air, but then Fili caught the outline of her body.

She leaned against the oak tree they had just passed by, her back pressed against the rough bark of the oak as she lurked in the shadow it cast. The moment he located her, she pushed off from the trunk and took a few steps forward into the silver moonlight.

Her hair was damp and let loose from the usual binding and braids that kept it pulled back.

Now it tumbled down in segmented waves over her right shoulder. She wore a fresh pair of clothing and he noticed that the blood stains and colored paints that had been slowly flaking off throughout the day had been washed off as well. In addition the smudged black coal that had been painted across her eyes was reapplied to the standard thin outlining of her eyes. It was obvious that she had just finished bathing and while she had valid reason to seek one out, Fili could not help but question her actions.

"You should not wandering out here alone," he declared, his tone easily finding a sharpness that was fueled by the usual irritation that he felt whenever she managed to sneak up or around him. He did not like it. He did not trust it.

Thyra raised a brow at his tone.

"I was bathing."

"You could have taken Sigurd with you," he quickly replied back.

"Siggy sleeps" she said matter of factly. "And while I know of your perverse habits of spying…"

"That was an accident," Fili quickly defended, as he fought against the blush that tinted his cheeks at the memory. "Had we known you two were there we would have seen to your privacy."

Her head tilted to the side as she gave out an exaggerated sigh.

"And that brings us back to the beginning."

"You could have easily asked someone else to stand guard at a distance. Then while giving you the privacy you would have also had protection," Fili growled as he became more irritated with their banter.

"While I appreciate your concern," she said flatly, "I can take care of myself, Feelig."

At the addition of the nickname, Fili snapped. He glowered at her as his arms strained to stay at his sides. He was tired of her always having the upper hand and as he fought the urge to launch at her with violence. But then he was suddenly struck with a winning blow that would take no physical exertion.

"I would say the the events of recent occurrences would counter that argument," he said, eyeing the side of her abdomen that bore the burn marks that where hidden beneath her purple tunic.

The reaction to his words were instantaneous as the smirk that had appeared with his nickname quickly fell as her face flinched into a grimace. He had obviously struck the blow well as her face morphed into emotions he had never witnessed on her face.

Anger, yes he had seen. Annoyance, as a daily occurrence. But guilt and Shame? They were new. He could not say that the victory left him satisfied as the usual shine from her black eyes lost their luster. When he felt the slight nudge into his rib, he looked to his brother.

Kili looked at him with confused disapproval and immediately he understood the cause of his brother's reaction. It was not like him to intentionally hurt someone.

Thyra was a capable woman. He knew it because he had witnessed it many times. She had just been caught off guard and overwhelmed the other day. Most people would have most likely not escaped with their lives. It was not luck that had granted Thyra's ability to still be with them, it had been her skills.

He turned with great difficulty to apologize to her, but in the few moments that he had glanced away, Thyra had somehow recovered from from his words as she schooled her features to a blank face and looked to Kili.

"You should tell Siggy how you feel," she suggested with strong encouragement in her voice.

Kili quickly forgot about his brothers bad behavior and perked up at her words, eager to receive advice from a feminine perspective.

"I want to but every time I try I have gotten tongue tied and when I finally manage to form a sentence, she seems to mistake my meaning." Thyra let out a small amused laugh and let her crossed arms fall to her sides. As Kili continued to explain his predicament she slowly walked up to them. "I tried to tell her last night but I do not think she understood my meaning and before I could correct her, we were interrupted."

Thyra came to a stop when she stood a few feet away from them, her dark eyes surveyed him under intense scrutiny as she mused over a solution for his predicament.

"Kiss her," she said bluntly. "There would be no mistaking you intentions then."

Kili's ears turned red as he bashfully looked down at the ground and dug his toes into the ground. "I dunno," he said slowly.

Thyra's brow rose.

"Do not tell me you have never kissed a girl before," she said, her tone teasing but free of any hint of true mockery or judgment.

Kili flushed more.

"Of course I have...I just…" he shrugged. "What if she doesn't like it. What if I am a bad kisser."

Fili did his best to keep the groan from escaping his lips as he listened to his brother's juvenile worries. He never understood his brothers fascination to romance. While he too wanted to someday marry a woman he loved and raise a family with her, he knew there was a time a place for courtship. And a dangerous quest that could end in the death of not just one, but both participants of the desired courtship did not seem the appropriate time.

That was what separated him from his brother. Fili was always one to act on reason and sound thinking. Kili was driven and controlled by his emotions.

The sound of Thyra letting out another amused laugh caused Fili to break away from his musings to look at her. Her pearly teeth flashed in the moonlight as she smiled, almost kindly at his brother.

"You not worry about that," Thyra reassured. "I do not think Siggy has ever recieved a kiss, therefore whatever your skill, she will not compare."

At this piece of revealed information, Kili brightened, as if he were actually contemplating the idea. He flashed Thyra a wide grin of gratitude and with a confident spring in his step, he began walking back to the camp. Thyra moved to follow after but was stopped when she felt Fili's hand grasp around her arm.

The moment his finger curled around her appendage, Fili felt her stiffen. As she turned to look at him, all earlier merriment while speaking with his brother disappeared and was replaced with a stoney face. Her eyes stared into his for a moment before slowly drifting down to his hand where it wrapped around her bicep. They flashed back up to his face, a dark warning burning in her eyes.

"I would like a private word," he said, keeping his grip on her arm.

Thyra made a show to take in their surroundings.

"Are we not already alone?" she asked, causing his grip to tighten in his own warning.

"Listen to me very carefully Régínn, because I do not like to repeat myself," he began, ignoring her comment. "I would like to instruct you to stay away from my brother but seeing as how we are all comrades and travelers of the same company, that would be impossible. So instead I ask that you please refrain from encouraging my brother in pursuance to Sigurd."

He watched as a glint of confusion came to her face and she tilted it to the side.

"I had thought you one to have a great love for your brother," she said. Her tone had lost its usual mockery and instead, Fili was certain there was a tone of what could only be placed as disappointment.

"I am," Fili quickly defended. "I would do anything for him."

"Then why do you wish him to not be happy?" she asked curiously.

"I do want him happy, and that is why I ask that you do not push him towards Sigurd." When she lacked to show any understanding he went on. "I have watched Kili 'fall in love' over and over again. Most of the time they have been innocent crushes that he harbors for a week or so until another pretty face catches his eye or he loses interest when they turn out to be just that. A pretty face and a pretty face only. Each time he had been left disappointed that he had not found love. Normally I would not be against this as I have seen him recover easily enough. But Sigurd is different. Sigurd is beautiful, but she is also kind and gentle. I would be more than happy to see romance and love bloom between them. I believe they each would be well deserving as I know my brother would make it his life's mission to make her happy until his dying breath."

"Then why would you not want me to help?" Thyra queried, her voice still holding confusion.

Fili let out a snort of amusement at her question. There were many reasons why he did not want _her_ to help his brother. He did not want her around his brother, let alone giving him advice. But the night was not long enough for such a list of reasons. So he stuck with the two that would cause the least amount of friction that could turn their discussion into a tournament of named offences.

"My first reason is because this is not the time nor the situation to be thinking of courtship," he began. "I want my brother safe, not distracted. When all of this is over, then perhaps he can pursue his desire of courtship, but until then, it is just a liability. Not just him but the entire company."

"I always thought that one betters themselves to protect those they care about." She contemplated out loud.

"They do. But they also become reckless," he countered. "I care about Sigurd, she is a good girl and I would not wish ill of her, but if I had to choose between my brother and her, I would choose him. I do not want him risking his life. Perhaps it is selfish, but it is an honest answer."

She bent down and picked up a twig from the ground that was laying down by her feet. As she seemed to mull over his words, she absentmindedly broke a small piece off and let it fall to the ground.

"We are all selfish when it comes to those we care about," she stated as she broke of another piece. "But sometimes the world demands more of others."

She paused for a moment as a piece of the twig failed to break away. She pulled and twisted the piece until the fibers separated and she let the last pieces of the twig fall down as he eyes trailed up to him.

"As a King do you plan to put the life of your brother above your subjects? I am curious, how many others would it take for it to be worth sacrificing your own blood?"

Fili frowned.

"We have already established that you do not think I will be a good king," he said rigidly. "And that subject has nothing to do with what we are speaking of."

Thyra shrugged, "Very well, you said that was your first reason, you have more?"

As always her dismissive attitude irked him, but his desire of change in topic out weighed his annoyance and he willingly took the offer to move away from his already insecure thoughts of being a Durin heir.

"My second reason is because I do not see Sigurd ever returning her feelings to my brother. She is hopelessly in love with Thrade. And from my foresight, I do not see her giving up on that even though his eyes wander to someone else," he said, his eyes settled on her as if accusing her that it was her fault the his brother's love was doomed.

Thyra's eyes narrowed.

"What Siggy feels for Thrade is not love. She is nieve of the true meaning. She has never had the opportunity to experience it." Thrya defended. "She has had many suitors but none worthy, none willing to try. They do not believe themselves able to rise to his level. Thrade is an accomplished man. A dwarf of a lost royal line, a warrior, a leader. But he is not right for Sigurd."

"And you think Kili is?"

"Perhaps," she stated her tone taking on indifference as she shrugged. "But it is not for us to decide, only they can know that," she added as she sent him a knowing look.

Fili shook his head, "And what if only one of them believes it but the other does not."

"Then they will get over it," she said in a tone that seemed tired.

Fili looked at her with disbelief.

"That is it? He will get over it?"

He took a step forward so that they stood toe to toe as he stared down at her. The top of her head not even reaching his shoulder.

"From what I have observed from you, I can see you lack regard for other people's feelings. Whether it was the negligence of your parents to teach things such as manors or if it is a genetic trait of you Régínn to possess impassive hearts with an inability to care, it is different for me, for us. We here in the west do not take pleasure in seeing our loved ones hurt. Therefore I ask you again, to not interfere with my brother's feelings."

Thyra said nothing as she looked up at him, meeting his eyes with her own. When he finished speaking, Fili kept looking into the deep pools of abyss that were her eyes as he waited for her reaction to his words.

When she showed him nothing, he then waited for a response. As no surprise, but still to his irritation, she gave none. Instead she took a step back, then another, her eyes staying focused on him until finally, she turned and began to walk back towards the camp.

Fili clenched his fists and stiffened his back as he took in a deep preparing breath.

"Swear to me that you won't speak of the subject any more with him," Fili demanded firmly, causing Thyra to stop in her tracks.

She slowly turned on her heal, first her body, then finally her head, her dark eyes glinting with a deep warning.

"A Reginn does not give promise to things so freely," she stated coldly. "I only makes vows for what I believe in. You ask something of me that I do not believe in, you insult me with a demand of my word. So I will give you a promise Feelig, but not the one you ask. I promise to do all that I can to aid your brother in his quest. Whether it be successful or not, I will not refuse to offer him any help that I can."

* * *

Sigurd's idea of a desirable and beautiful woman had always been drawn in the image of Asha. Ever since she had been old enough to acknowledge the notion of attraction, she knew that Asha held every aspect. In a physical sense, she was the kind of beauty that people wrote poems and ballads for. Her bone structure was proud and noble, yet still held soft lines that made her seem elegant and refined. Even with her collection of years, she held few signs of her true age. Her hair was still vibrant with color and her skin smooth and free of minimal scars. And the few scars that marked her body only seemed to elevate her beauty. They were a testament to the strength that she possessed within.

What was within Asha was what Sigurd was truly envious of. Words could not begin to describe the beauty that Sigurd coveted that was within Asha. Her ability to lead without seeming to be above others. The kindness and love that she held for all the people under her care. The kindness and love that she had shown to Sigurd. The ability to make Sigurd feel as though she was worth something when even her own mother at most only showed indifference to her.

It was that ability that Sigurd had always coveted most and strived for. It was one of the many reasons why Sigurd had taken up the practice of healing. She wanted to care for those who needed it. She wanted to give people what they needed most to survive in the world that she lived in. Sigurd did not like violence, she had always been a pacifist, but that was not an idealism that could be easily practiced within the guild.

Asha had once offered to help Sigurd settle into a peaceful town but the idea of leaving her home immediately caused her to refuse. While she did not like war or contention, the healing and kindness that she wanted to offer was most needed by those who came and fought in the Guild. So it was for that reason, among others, that she had stayed.

Sigurd was not as naive as most people seemed to think, nor was she as oblivious. She knew that many of the males, and a few females of the Guild found her appearance attractive. She also knew of that population, many had and still did vie for her attention.

Though she knew these things to be true as any other facts of life. What she did not know or understand was why.

While others, both old and young had praised her beauty, she herself could never quite see herself as the memorable beauty that others painted her to be. Perhaps it was an extreme case of humble modesty, but Sigurd did not see it.

Physically she felt herself could be considered attractive. She knew that the contrast between her dark hair and cornflower irises were striking. The physically demanding life within the guild kept her leaner that what some would deem the ideal image of a dwarrowdam, but she kept on enough weight to give her some curves that most of the shield maidens of the Guild, such as Thyra, seemed to lack. But that was the extent to Sigurd's ability to see what others saw and it seem shadowed when compared to her weaknesses.

She was horribly shy around most people and she lacked confidence. These where two facts that Sigurd knew about herself, and she felt that if she could easily spot these traits as flaws, then it had to be obvious to others. Yet, she still managed to catch the eye of several young dwarves that she had to persuade to let go of such hopes.

She knew it broke their hearts, it went against the love and kindness she always wanted to provide to others, but it would have been unfair to them had she not. The kind of love they had wanted from her was not one she could give with sincerity. For that one love had always been reserved for the one dwarf that had never even seemed to consider possibly returning her affections.

Thrade.

She had only ever had eyes for him. It started out as just a crush, as her brothers friend he had always been around and had always been kind to her. After Hane died, Thrade had taken it upon himself to fill the duties of brother in his friend's absence. He had always been there for her. But how Asha was not her mother, Thrade was not her brother. Try as they did to care for her and nurture her, Sigurd could never see them as the roles that others would.

As they grew older, the crush she held for him had become more solidified. At first she thought that perhaps she was finally seeing him as a brother but then one day she realized that it was not the love of a sibling. It was a different love she had not experienced before. Since that day, she had always hoped for the day that he too would experience a revelation similar to hers and upon that day he would make his feelings of affection for her known.

But time went on and he gave no indication that he harbored any feelings that went beyond deep friendship. She had once hoped it was because she was not of age yet, but then Thyra arrived and everything changed. It was not instantly, but after the third year of Thyra's servitude to Asha, Sigurd noticed the change in which Thrade acted around her. She saw the way he looked at her with so much longing in his eyes and the way his touches lingered on her skin.

She had been angry and jealous of Thyra when she first realized Thrade's feelings and she had acted out.

For several weeks she had refused to talk to Thrya beyond monosyllabic words. And when she did speak them, she always made a point to speak them in Westron. She was angry that Thyra had gained so easily what Sigurd longed for. But what had made her even more upset was that Thrya disregarded Thrade's obvious advances for her affections.

While Thyra was well versed in the art of hiding her feelings, Sigurd had spent enough time around her that she had learned that there was one thing that Thyra could not mask. And that was her eyes.

Sigurd had seen the hurt, confusion, and even the betrayal written in the younger dwarrowmaid's eyes. But Thyra had never confronted Sigurd about it. And as much as Thyra lacked in companionship around the camp, Thyra continued to speak with her and work alongside her even while she gained no responses. It was petty, and not one of Sigurd's proudest moments. Eventually, Sigurd managed to get over her jealousy and was able to make amends with Thyra. She never told Thyra the reason why she had tried to ostracize the Régínn and Thyra never asked.

Thyra had still yet to show any signs of returning Thrade's feelings. Whether out of consideration to Sigurd's own feelings, which Sigurd was certain Thyra knew of, or for other reasons. Whatever the reason, Sigurd was relieved she would not have to watch from afar while the love of her life found love with someone else.

Despite this, it did not make things any easier.

Sigurd still harbored her feelings and while she knew Thrade would never return such feelings, she could not let them go. So it was with a heavy heart that Sigurd came to the conclusion that she would never be able to have a partner in her life. It was a heartbreaking conclusion, for Sigurd had always dreamed of a fairy tale ending. One where she would someday be the recipient of another's heart that she could give her own heart to without any pause or hesitation.

. . . . . . . . . . .


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N Sorry about the false updates I have reloaded/replaced and deleted chapters because 19 was posting a duplicate. To say the least I am frustrated but this should hopefully fix it all. Should have a real new update this month.**

Chapter 19 The Peer Gynt Encounter: Part I

 ***A/N This chapter was inspired when I was listening to Peer Gynt: In the Hall of the Mountain King. If you are unfamiliar with the tune I encourage you to listen to it because it narrates the escalade of events in the second half of this chapter.**

 **Present Time…**

Fili and Thyra sat next to each other while they posted themselves just outside the camps circle as they kept their shift of watch. However, the phrase 'next to each other', was perhaps an exaggeration of accuracy in their proximity to one another.

A large cedar tree, reaching over forty feet in length, lay prone on the ground after falling down from a long ago storm. Several branches had been broken off during its fall to the ground, leaving the majority of the trunk bare. Its uprooted foundation that had once been buried deep within the ground were left exposed, looking like a gnarled mass of twisted and bent fingers.

Sitting on each end of the trees length, were the two dwarves in question. Fili preoccupied the end which once reached for the sky while Thyra took the other end as she sat with her back against the uprooted tendrils.

Thyra's arms were crossed against her chest with her legs stretched out along the trunk, her left ankle crossing her right as she took up a more casual posture than usual. Her dark eyes blended in with the darkness of the night making it impossible to see where her attention was trained. But Fili did not need to see, nor did he look in her direction, to know she was not watching the wilderness.

He could feel her dark gaze on him as the aura emanating from her direction read nothing but vindictive intent. He could feel the constant rhythmic vibrations traveling up the trunk as her foot bounced with pent up agitation. He thought about telling her to stop but then he would have to talk to her. And even if he did make the request, he believed she would only exaggerate the movement to intensify the shaking sensation. So instead he kept his eyes trained on the surrounding trees and underbrush while he tried to ignore the hostility being directed towards him.

While the eagles had granted them the opportunity to put some distance between their hunters, Thorin was not wanting to take any chances now that they were on foot again. With the increase of danger, Thorin was assigning pairings instead of individuals to keep watch at night.

Fili usually never minded keeping watch. In fact, he found it oddly relaxing and pleasant. And with the recent pairings for watch, he found it helped form deeper bonds and comradeship between members of the company. Most of the time his shifts seemed to fly quickly by because of the pleasant conversation.

Dwalin always had great insight into new fighting techniques and helpful critiquing. Bilbo lived such a different life from a dwarf that anything he shared was always refreshing. Bofur and Nori always had a laughable story to share. Sigurd was such an amiable lass that it was always pleasant to be around her. And while Fili was still unsure if he truly liked or disliked Thrade, it was nice to have another male dwarf that was near his age to relate with. For the rest of the company, they too also all had their own perks of being on duty with.

However, there was one exception to that rule for Fili, and that was Thyra.

Tonight was their first time ever being scheduled at the same time. Something that Fili just realized may have been purposely done by Thorin up until now. But certain events had changed Thorin's mind, and Fili was hating every moment of it.

There were no jokes or interesting stories. Not even a surprise snack, a perk to being paired with Bombur. And there was certainly no idle chit chat being exchanged to even try and make the long hours pass by.

Instead there was silence, silence and seething. The hours that usually passed by quickly were prolonged to what seemed like three times the actual amount and Fili hated it. He hated it all. To make it worse, this arrangement was permanent and to be repeated every night until Thorin said otherwise.

At the thought Fili immediately felt his gut tighten with dismay and shame of his earlier actions that had led up to this point. His mind played over the lecture that had wounded his confidence and pride far more than he liked to admit. But it was well deserved now that Fili looked back at his actions though he would never admit it.

He cast a suspicious side glance towards Thyra as if to make sure she did not know what he was thinking. She was mostly cast in shadow but her light hair did well to catch and reflect the moon light enough to illuminate her face. He was not surprised by the presence of a frown on her face, but he was surprised by the cause behind it. For it was not an expression of anger but instead one of deep thoughts. One that made Fili wonder if perhaps see too was reflecting upon the cause of their current situation.

It was an interesting predicament they were in and it was an even more interesting situation that had landed them in such an arrangement in the first place. It had all began earlier that week….

* * *

 **Previously That Week…**

Supper had just been cleared away and everyone was settling down after a grueling day of traveling across a rugged terrain. They had spent hours trying to climb up a steep plateau but were quick to discover that there was no possible way back down due to a landslide. So instead they had to resort to taking a detour several miles north before they could find a safe enough spot to make a descent. To make things worse, the ground at the bottom was nothing but broken rocks and loose gravel, making it difficult to travel swiftly across without losing one's footing or twisting an ankle.

Taking pity on his ragged group, Thorin called it a day when they finally reached the first optimal campsite as the sun reached the point to indicate it was only mid afternoon. There was not much done the rest of the day other than the soaking of aching feet in the small stream that they had set up their camp beside.

Supper was then prepared and as the sun disappeared and the moon rose, they all found themselves sitting around the fire and watching the flames flicker and grow small until someone managed to hobble over to throw on another log before it died out completely.

Things were strangely quiet and less lively that night when compared to others. Bofur was too tired to play anything on his flute and no one protested as they were all too tired to have any desire to sing or dance.

Unfortunately it was still too early for sleep to come easily. While their feet were tired and sore, their minds still hummed for some type of entertainment before being ready to succumb to an unconscious state. A few stories were shared at first but it soon became apparent that they all found themselves at a loss for a new story to share. It was for this reason, Bofur was inspired to address the less talkative of their female companions.

"Thyra," he said in a voice that still held his usual upbeat tone. "I am sure you have all sorts of stories to share that we have not heard. Would you treat us?"

Thyra, who had been staring at the fire without blinking for some time, suddenly moved her dark eyes from the orange flames and looked around to find that all eyes were now on her. It was obvious that Bofur's request had brought a lot of intrigue and curiosity to their comrades. Even Fili had a brief glint of interest in his eyes but upon seeing her attention he schooled them into disinterest.

With Thyra's injury and with them being hunted, Thyra had been keeping with the company during their travels more often. The result of this was an increase of exposure of the two dwarves to one another. This increase easily correlated with an increase of heated disagreements and agitated patience between the two. Thyra still offered advice to Kili despite Fili's request and while Kili had yet to take an initiative and follow through with her advice, Fili was still annoyed.

At first it seemed she would refuse but as she set her eyes upon Fili, there was a change in her continence. A smug smirk stretched across her face as her dark eyes glinted mischievously. It was an action that brought a frown to Fili's face, which in turn made her lips stretch even further upward.

She looked to Bofur and nodded.

"It will not be as good in your Western tongue," she said steadily. "But I will try."

Her aquencence to his request caused a small ripple of excitement around the campfire and several shifted in their seats, looking more alert as they all cast their attention to her.

Bofur smiled and waved a hand.

"That's alright lassie. Many of our stories lost their meaning as well when not shared in Khuzdul."

Thyra nodded then took in a deep breath as she began her story.

 _Long ago there was a lush land at the base of a tall grass was soft like the fur of a rabbit skin and the water was refreshing no matter how cold or hot the day was._

 _The sun always shone brightly and when it did not, it was only because the rains poured down their life giving nectar to enrich the earth. But once the earth had been replenished, the sun would return._

 _A wanderer named Usalaag came across the lands and decided that it was too beautiful for only his eyes to be blessed, so he created the gentle creatures of the world to inhabit the lands. Frogs and fish were given the waters, mice and moles were given the earth, and the warblers and sparrows the trees. He created all sorts of animals. Some with long tails, others with none. There were creatures of the quiet nature like the deer while others such as the duck made a ruckus in the pond. Despite their differences, they all got along and lived in harmony._

 _Usalagg was happy with his creations and continued to design additions to his collection. For one particular piece of work, he took a rock from the earth and carved it out. Once it was hollow he then took the most beautiful flowers from the grasslands and placed them on the rock before pouring honey over their petals. When the honey had hardened, he took moss from a tree and shined the rock. For three days he rubbed it until it became an opaque crystal that took on a winsome design from the flowers that lay beneath the layer of hardened honey. Usalagg was quite pleased with his work as all the animals gazed with awe at the beautiful rock._

 _With his masterpiece finished, he walked over to the end of the water and pulled a frog from its depths and placed it into the carved center. When Usalagg had hollowed the rock, he left six holes all around the edge. From the holes, the frog's arms, legs, head, and finally his bottom, which had been pinched into a tail, hung out from the rock. Thus Usalaag created the turtle._

 _All the creatures praised the turtle for the beauty of his shell and they all cried for Usalaag to make the turtle their king. Usalaag was hesitant as the turtle had not done anything to make himself worthy of such a title but he finally granted the creatures their wish and proclaimed the turtle their ruler._

 _On the eleventh day of being in the land, Usalaag said he must leave to go up into the mountains. Before his departure, he turned to the turtle and told him that he was placing the care of the animals in his hands and warned him that he should never forget that just because his subjects had chosen him, it did not mean he was ready to rule. Usalaag told the turtle that he must work hard from now on to become a good ruler and not to take advantage of what had been bestowed upon him so easily. With his final words, Usalagg made his journey up the tall mountain and disappeared, leaving the creatures to frolic in their bliss._

 _At first, the turtle took Usalaag's words to heart but he soon became lazy and arrogant. With his new shell he found he never needed to make shelter when it rained and the beauty of it attracted his subjects so much that they brought him food and water aplenty. Their constant praise of his beauty and power went to his head and soon the turtle forgot Usalaag's words altogether as he easily ruled his lands that never seemed to have worry._

 _Years passed easily until one day, turmoil came to their lands._

 _Fanged wolves, swift raptors, clawed bears, and other beasts not of their lands began to ravage their once harmonious estate. The wolves hunted the larger animals in packs, causing their larger beasts to become too few to fight back. Raptors of all size, eagles, ravens, and horned owls swooped down and took the smaller beasts. The bears knocked down the beehives and ate the honey causing the bees to leave. Without the bees, the flowers died and the fruit trees became barren. Then the crows came and ate the sod seed making the once luscious grasslands turn to dirt where it dried out and turned to sand._

 _The animals gathered together and tried to decide what to do. After seven days of deliberation, it was finally decided that they would seek out Usalaag from the mountain top. No animal had ever ventured to the top before and because the turtle was their ruler they all looked to him. Having been puffed up, the turtle agreed to accept the challenge._

 _But the turtle had become too egotistical because of his shell. Not only was it beautiful but it had also kept him safe during these times of danger. No beast had been able to hurt him so he thought himself invincible. So he accepted the challenge only because he knew he would not die._

 _With great cheers from his people, the turtle began to make his way to the mountain. He first came across a bear whose claws were not sharp enough to scratch his shell. Then the wolves came but their jaws were not strong enough to crack his shell. With no harm coming to him, he made it to the base of the mountain._

 _Unable to consume the turtle, the new predators of the land gave up and glared at the reptile who had only become even more inflated as he began to climb up the mountain._

 _But there was something that the turtle was too stupid to realize when accepting the challenge. While his shell kept him safe from the large beasts, it did not aid him in climbing the large rocks and slopes of the mountain. The turtle managed to climb up only a single rock before his heavy shell caused him to lose his balance and fall down the slope were the large beasts were waiting for him. All eager for another chance to try for a taste of the turtle._

 _Seeing these beasts and having lost some of his confidence, he cowered in his shell until nightfall when they had all fallen asleep. With false triumph over the bloodthirsty beasts, the turtle again made his way back up to the mountain. Again he attempted his ascent and again he fell back down the hill because the weight of his shell._

 _The animals of Usalaag's creation watched and shouted for him to remove his shell and climb up. But the turtle was not willing to discard the gift that he had been given. For the predators had arisen from the sound of the turtle falling down the mountain and were waiting hungrily at the bottom._

 _Intimidated by the feral beasts, the turtle was too much of a coward to expose himself to the dangers. He also feared that if he should remove it, the animals would remember his true form as a soft and weak frog. So he again made his ascent for a third time and again the foolish turtle fell down the hill. However, this time he landed on his back._

 _His arms and legs waved in the air but were useless when it came to righting himself. No matter how much he rocked and tried to turn the shell, it was too heavy for him to lift. Usalaag had told him to become stronger, but he had relied on only the gift he had been given for strength and never strengthened himself and thus was the day he reaped to consequences._

 _For three days the turtle tried to turn himself over and for three days the animals of his kingdom where picked off by the new beasts of his nation. The subjects that he was told to protect were killed before his very eyes while he remained useless in his armored shell._

 _Too stubborn and afraid to leave his shell to help his people, he pulled in his arms and head and shrank into the dark depths of his shell. From within the dark cavern, he listened to the cries of his people as they were hunted and ripped apart by the hungry predators._

"And that ends the first part of the saga," Thyra announced suddenly. She looked up to the moon which was now high in the sky. "I think it is too late for the other two parts."

When Thyra suddenly cut off her storytelling there was a long pause as no one knew what to say. It was not like anything they had heard. The ending was abrupt, unexpected, and lacked conclusion.

"That is the most futile story I have ever heard." Fili muttered while Kili's foot shot out and kicked him hard in the shin.

"No it's not Fili," Kili reprimanded looking quickly to make sure Thyra had not heard.

"Are you serious?" Fili questioned. "There is no triumph in the end. There was no moral of the story."

Thyra's dark eyes flashed to him, having heard his mutterings.

"The moral is that a ruler cannot just be chosen. They are made and must prove themselves worthy before taking a crown. They must always prepare themselves and never take advantage of times of harmony. The turtle was lazy and selfish. He valued his life more than the call of his duty."

Fili let out a huff but said nothing more.

"Well it was an interesting story all the same lassie and I look forward to hearing the last two instalments," Bofur finally managed to say in an attempt to defuse the argument as he sensed Fili's desire to think up another point to argue. "What is its name?"

Thyra's attention moved to Fili as she answered the other dwarfs question. Her eyes glinted in the fire light as her mouth curved into a self amused smile.

"We call it _**Skjaldbaka, eðla, og snákur.**_ In your Westron you can call it, _The Turtle, the Lizard, and the Snake_. This part is known as Feelig: the Foolish Coward."

At the naming of the title, Fili's head snapped up as he glowered at Thyra.

He recognized that name. It was familiar because it was the only thing she had ever called him. Not once over the months since their first meeting had she ever called him by his given name. The first time was during their second encounter just after the trolls where turned to stone and she knocked him to the ground. She had shoved him onto his back and said the name right after she thanked him. He remembered it vividly because he remembered being shocked when she uttered the words in the westron tongue.

At the time he had thought he had just heard her wrong and it was her accent. Then he thought it was perhaps she could not pronounce his name correctly, the way she struggled with Sigurd's name and substituted it with Siggy. But when he realized she did not struggle with Kili's, he came to the conclusion that she did it merely because she knew it bothered him.

Yes, she was purposely calling him by the wrong name. But it turned out it was far worse than simply trying to aggravate him, she had been insulting him.

His hands clenched and his teeth gritted as he made the connection to what she was implying by calling him such a name.

Sigurd could easily tell the tension between the pair was about to become far more tighter. She still did not understand why they had such a difficult time with each other. From what Kili had told her of his brother, Fili did not usually dislike others. And for the few he did, he never openly showed it.

In retrospect, she too found an oddity in Thyra's behavior. Having a person dislike Thyra was nothing new, she never cared if someone disliked her. Or at least she put up a good show of indifference when it came to other people's opinions.

But what the oddity was the seemingly purposeful actions that antagonized Fili. If Sigurd did not know any better she would assume that Thyra _wanted_ Fili to hate her.

With the tension becoming far too strained, Sigurd was worried that it would soon be pulled too tightly. And if that happened, the result would not end well for anyone. With this conclusion, she knew it was time to defuse the situation.

"The story is much better with the second and third part," she said while turning to Thyra. "Why don't you finish the ending? The night is not as late as you suggest, we have plenty of time."

Thyra turned her attention away from Fili to look at Sigurd, then she looked back to Fili as she contemplated.

"No," she said finally. "Not now."

Sigurd's shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Maybe you could tell it Siggy," Kili eagerly offered in an attempt to support her effort to defuse the situation and raise her spirits.

Sigurd let her chin drop to her hands as she leaned forward on her knees.

"No," she said with a heavy sigh. "I would not tell it right."

"Then maybe another time," Balin offered as he gave the girl who was sitting next to him a pat on her knee. Sigurd gave him a grateful smile and nodded.

After that, the tension died down but there were no more stories shared and instead several went off to their bedrolls in hopes to quickly fall asleep and wake up rested. Thorin gave out the nights assignments for watch and the first pair, Bilbo and Kili, made their way to the outer perimeter.

While everyone else settled in their beds for the night, Fili remained unmoved from his upright position as he glared at the flames of the quickly dying fire. His eyes darted over to where Thyra was lying, he could see her collected hair splayed out along her shoulder as she slept with her back to him.

It seemed like a mistake on her part, to easily make herself vulnerable for an attack from someone who possessed bitter feelings towards her. And bitter feelings was only half of what Fili felt he had in his heart.

It annoyed him that she never seemed to pay him any courtesy or respect. While she was not the most welcoming or social person he had ever met, she still managed to get along with the rest of the company.

She was hard on the poor halfling, but her intentions were always good when interacting with him. He thought of her harsh training back when they first started traveling together. He had thought her cruel then but then he had caught sight of the buttons on her bag and the absence of a few of them. It was then he had made the connection of the ' _found'_ buttons she had gifted the hobbit. She had given her own buttons from her bag and struggled with the lack of proper fastenings herself so the hobbit would not. It almost seemed like the purest gesture of kindness he had witnessed yet she took no credit or acknowledgment.

Then there was the almost father, daughter bond that she now seemed to share with Dwalin. Despite them pummeling each other to a pulp, they now bonded with each other quite frequently. Sparing with each other and walking alongside each other when traveling through the days. And while neither of them were overly talkative, they seemed to bond over their silent company.

And then there was the time she had broken from her character to dance with Kili just so he could have the opportunity to dance with Sigurd. He was sure not many had noticed this as her initial intention, but Fili had. He had caught the way she had purposely missed that step which resulted in the switch of partners. He had also caught the smirk and wink she had sent to Kili when he found Sigurd in his arms and not Thyra, more proof that it was all done with good intention.

She had even developed a strange, yet close relationship with Thorin. There were many examples that he had caught throughout the months she had traveled with them all with other members. In fact, he could recall at least one gesture or incident of similar nature for each member of the company. Each member, except himself.

He was not jealous. He could care less if she showed him any attention at all. But it was almost as if she went out of her way to disrespect and make a fool out of him. It was why he was always watching her so carefully. Because he did not trust her. He did not know why, but Thyra had something against him.

As he stared at her back, a strange desire welled within him. It was such a foreign concept that he never thought he would want to achieve such a thing. But here he was, sitting and conspiring. An evil smirk came to his face as he watched the slumbering girl.

Fili almost felt giddy with delight at the thought of getting his revenge. With this in mind he slid down to the ground and lay on his back as he gazed up at the stars. His eyes slowly closed but he did not fall asleep for quite some time as he thought of ways to finally get even. For once, it would be her, not him that would look like a fool.

* * *

It took everything within Fili to keep his face expressionless as he passed Thyra her serving of supper the next evening. In truth, even his best efforts were not enough as he felt the corner of his mouth quirk.

Thankfully Thyra was too busy ignoring him that she did not catch it. She took the bowl and muttered something indistinguishable. While logic told him it was most likely an offering of what would pass as an acknowledgment of his existence and in Thyra terms gratitude, his irrational thoughts told him it was muttered insult. Without regarding him any further, Thyra set the bowl down next to her and continued to finish tying off the last bundles of herbs she and Sigurd had managed to collect throughout the day.

Fili made no reply but instead retreated with his own bowl to take a seat directly across from where she sat. Normally he would take a seat beside his brother but tonight, he wanted to have the best view for when his first attempt of subtle revenge came into action. It was a simple, some would even deem it no more than a childish ploy, but Fili did not care. He just wanted the pleasure of seeing her face and reaction when she finally partook of her supper. A meal that he had taken upon himself to make sure was well seasoned. Just a generous handful of salt, discreetly added to her bowl.

He watched, nearly forgetting his own food as he awaited for her to finish. She tied off the last bundle of wild sage and handed it to Sigurd who took it from her. With her hands free, Thyra finally grasped the bowl of stew and Fili felt his heart pound in excitement as she lifted it and spooned herself a mouthful. The anticipation nearly killed him as she slowly raised the spoon to her lips and blew on it. Fili felt himself lick his own lips as he mentally urged her to hurry and take a bite.

As if his mental encouragement did the trick. Thyra opened her mouth and took her first bite. Fili knew the exact moment the food touched her tongue because the reaction was perfection. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth puckered before she turned to the side and spat the contents of her bite onto the ground.

Fili grinned, as the reaction brought the attention of others to her. Her eyes immediately cast to her right where Kili was happily slurping his bowl of food. A look of confusion spread across her face as her face turned and eyes searched. Finally, they locked onto Fili sitting across from her with his mouth spread into the slyest grin he could muster.

Her eyes narrowed and Fili could not help but lift his own bowl in a mock salute before pridefully taking a bite of his own food and making a face of enjoyment as if he were eating the sweetest of cakes. As his eyes opened from his feigned look of savory, he was more than pleased with the deep frown that adorned her face. He knew, that she knew, what he had done. And he was proud.

It was not until Sigurd's instant questioning of what was wrong did Thyra finally mutter a quick excuse of not waiting long enough for her food to cool. The commotion of her reaction died down quickly after and everyone went back to their earlier conversations. It was not the full effect Fili had been hoping for, but he still felt the scale tip ever so slightly in his favor.

He would be wrong to say it did not taste sweet and he was already craving more revenge. But his sweet taste was quickly cast aside when Thyra's lips slowly moved back into a small diabolical smirk. Taken off guard, Fili's own smile faltered which only seemed to fuel Thyra's to lift even higher. Slowly, she took another spoonful and to Fili's disbelief, she brought it to her mouth and ate it.

She ate the entire bowl and Fili could not deny he was impressed with her skill in keeping her composure for the remainder of her meal. However, he still gained some satisfaction when she took a greedy gulp from her water skin after every bite. But his satisfaction would be short lived because in that moment, he was oblivious to the hornets nest he had just thrown a stone at. A phrase in which would become even more ironic as the week went on.

* * *

It was the next morning that Fili found out that retaliation would be inevitable when trying to become even with Thyra. And it was unfortunate for the golden haired prince that she easily took his own ideas and adapted them into a more severe punishment. That perolous truth revealed itself when he took his first bite of porridge at breakfast.

At first he had detected nothing out of the ordinary. It tasted like any other gruel one would eat while traveling. But then the heat began to manifest and build.

It was as if he had licked a burning flame as his tongue was enveloped in an excruciating heat. In an attempt to relieve his mouth, he swallowed the food which only proved to be a mistake. As the food slide down his esophagus it left everything in its wake ablaze. All the way down it scorched his insides and when it reached his stomach it too immediately began to burn.

Perspiration began to bead on his forehead and then trickle down his face. He coughed, which turned into a wretch and brought the attention of everyone else as he heaved and panted. He knew he looked like a panting dog as his tongue hung from his mouth but it was the only relief he could muster.

Dwalin slapped him on the back which proved to be unhelpful. Kili proved more helpful when he passed him a water flask. Fili greedily gulped the water until the last drop fell onto his burning tongue.

For a moment the heat was tempered but after the last morsel of water was swallowed, the burning began to intensify. So he accepted another flask offered to him and emptied it as well. But this time it was worse, because now his stomach had something to expel and he dashed away from the circle to the edge of the camp to vomit the contents of his stomach.

If the feeling of the spiked spicy porridge was unpleasant going down, it was ten times worse coming up. Fili let out another retch and this time only acidic bile came up, which seemed to burn worse than normal when his mouth was already tender from the still lingering heat that had only dulled. The tears that had welled up and ran down his face earlier had ceased, leaving his eyes feeling raw and irritated.

He heard footsteps approach him and thinking it was Kili he waved a disregarding hand.

"No more, Kili. I do not think the water is helping."

"Of course not," came a reply that made Fili stiffen.

Slowly he stood upright, a feat only made possible by supporting himself against the tree he had thrown up on. He turned to see Thyra standing against another tree as she casually leaned against the smooth bark and bent her right knee to let the flat of her foot rest against the trunk.

"It makes it worse," she said matter of factly.

"What...did...you...do?" he asked brokenly as he coughed and wheezed between each word of his question.

Thyra's eyes gleamed with mirth.

"We Régínn pay our debts. No matter how small the favor. You seasoned my supper so tastefully and full of flavor I thought I would repay in the same manner. Did you not like it?" she finished with an innocently sweet tone.

"I just put salt in your food," Fili growled. "What was that poison?"

Thyra frowned.

"It is not a poison. It is a dry powder of preserved _**Dreki pipar**_ _,_ a pepper that is found in my homeland. One of my favorites. Although usually only a small pinch is enough for a pot of food. However, last night, I noticed you must prefer your food more seasoned so I added two to your single bowl. You should be grateful I was so giving because I have nearly exhausted my supply. One that will not be so easy to replenish."

Fili who had bent over again during her explanation to let out a dry heave snapped his attention back to her. He was first tempted to let out his frustration and anger but then he remembered the way she had eaten her food without so much as a word to him last night. Knowing the scales were already leaning well into her favor after such a resurgence, he knew he could not react. So with much effort, he gave her a strained smile.

"I thank you for your generosity," he said through his teeth. "It was quite a treat to experience such flavorful cuisine."

She gave him a smug smile then started to walk away.

"Fresh milk is best for the burning, but as that is not an option, bread is always a nice substitute," she called aloud without turning back. "Though the most effective and my favorite is fresh mint leaves."

As tempted Fili was to experiment if her suggestion would work, he did not not try them. Be it his pride or his lack of trust in the girl, Fili refused to do anything to help with the lingering burn that stayed in his mouth for the remainder of the day.

Instead he let it be his motivation to break even and eventually tip the scales back into his favor consume his mind.

That night he regained a small amount of satisfaction as he lay in his bed and heard Thyra come to her bedroll after her shift at watch. He kept his eyes shut but listened intently as he listened to her movements.

First he heard her steps stop, followed by the faint thump as she lay down. For a moment all was still except the soft hum of the summer insects, and then he heard it. A panicked scramble of blankets as a suppressed shriek escaped her lips.

He grinned to himself as the sound of a blanket being shaken violently along with the unmistakable frantic brushing of hands against clothing filled his ears. It was like a lullaby that coaxed him into sleep as the happy thought came to his mind: Thyra had found the insects he had spent collecting throughout the days journeying.

* * *

Fili could not help but feel a small pride each time he saw Thyra have a spasm and twitch as they walked the next day. With each ant she pulled from her leg or with each centipede she flailed from her arm as it crawled from her pack to travel down her appendage, he felt the scale tip more and more to his side.

But again his satisfaction was short lived.

The company had reached a point where the foliage was particularly thick and was forced to pass through in single file while they used a small deer trail that provided a thin passage.

Gandalf was in the lead and came across a branch that was in their way. He gently moved it and as he made his way onward, he kept ahold of it until Thorin managed to take hold of it himself to prevent it from swinging back into his face. This gesture was passed on to each member until Thyra who was second last, just ahead of Fili, was gently handed the branch from Dori.

The night before Thyra had almost believed that she had ignorantly spread her bedroll on an ants nest. But then she could have sworn she had heard a snicker from the direction where Fili lay. His constant muffled laughs every time she pulled yet another insect from herself throughout the day only confirmed her suspicions. So when she accepted the branch from Dori, she held no hesitation to immediately release it from her grasp before Fili managed to lift his arm to hold the trees limb away from his face.

Like a catapult, the branch snapped back and hit Fili full in the face with a leafy punch. Being caught off guard and with the force being so powerful, Fili was knocked from his feet onto his back with a painful grunt.

Blinking away the tears that formed from the pain, Fili lifted a hand to cup his sore nose and felt the damp trickle of blood began to freely flow from his nostrils. As he lay on his back, half dazed and staring up at the still swaying branch as its leaves danced with mocking innocence, Thyra came into his view as she hovered over him. With a self satisfied smirk that had annoyingly become a frequent sighting, she looked down at him, making no move to offer a hand up.

"Careful _Feelig_ ," she said, nearly singing the nickname. "You may want to get your eyes checked. Did you not see that tree? You walked right into it."

And with that, she turned and continued down the trail. Fili sat up just in time to watch her walk away with a slight bounce to her step as she moved to catch up with the rest of the group.

He sneered at her back but the metallic taste of blood freely flowing from his nose forced him to quickly shut it and resort to just scowling. Pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers in an attempt to stop the flow, he got back onto his feet and followed after her, this time keeping plenty of distance between them.

* * *

Following one particularly wet morning, the sun had finally come out by noon and began to dry out the earth. By mid afternoon, the only evidence that there was any rainfall earlier that day was a single puddle left in their path. The majority of stagnant water had already been absorbed or evaporated but it had left a massive amount of mud that could be likened to a small bog.

Dwalin had fallen a small tree to act as a temporary bridge to cross over while keeping their feet from becoming soiled while they crossed over the muck. It just so happened that when Thyra was about half way over, Fili hopped onto the tree and began to bounce on the end to "test" the steadiness of the tree and make sure it would bare his weight. As the tree began to shake and bounce, Thyra's balance was thrown off. For a moment, she staggered and swayed then just as she reclaimed her balance, Fili gave one more forceful bounce and Thyra's footing was lost.

Fili watched and slowly made a halfhearted effort to extend a hand as he was the closest to her. But he had moved too slow and the small Régínn dwarf fell face first into the pit of mud with a messy squelch.

By the time she had managed to crawl her way out of the shin deep mud with her pack, her entire body was caked mud, leaving nothing light in color except for the whites of her eyes which stood our blindingly against the brown mud and her own dark irises She looked like a wraith in the night with glowing eyes as she trudged up to the company who safely and cleanly waited at the edge of the mud pit. She ignored all extensions of aid as she glared daggers at Fili who had crossed over safely while she struggled to climb out of the sinking mud pit.

That night after her clothes had been laundered and hung to dry, Fili found that his entire bedroll to be soaking wet, compliments of Thyra who thought it would be helpful to wash his bedding.

* * *

Throughout the week the company all stood on the sidelines and watched as spectators as the two took turns passing on the baton of revenge.

For the most part their methods had been harmless, at least harmless to others of the group. There were no casualties of the innocent, just inward groans of empathy each time a particularly hard blow had been taken. But as the week went on, their vindictive methods increased in both frequency and cruelty.

One particular incident had been when Bombur had asked Fili and Thyra to find him a certain wood to help bring some flavor to the fish being served for supper that night. He had requested some chips of Red Oak. Fili, not wanting to stay anywhere near Thyra suggested they split up.

At first Thyra protested and Fili did not understand why until he noticed her gazing around at the various trees and bushes that surrounded her. Sprouted right before her was a small red oak sapling yet as her eyes were cast upon it, she stared at it for a long moment before moving on. It was then he realized, Thyra did not know what a red oak looked like.

This realization planted a wonderfully dark idea into Fili's mind. Normally he would not be one to help her, a fact that should have made Thyra suspicious of his actions. But her lack of knowledge had forced her to accept his help as he described what to look for before splitting up. When she came back with an armload of the plant described to her and her skin marked with large itchy blemishes to see a smirking Fili, she realized her mistake.

The moment Sigurd recognized the poison oak she warned Thyra to immediately drop the arm load. It only took Sigurd to ask why she was carrying Western Poison Oak for Thyra to realize her mistake. When she noticed Fili's own armload of a much different plant than hers, her suspicion of his purposeful intent to lead her astray was established.

As punishment for his misguidance, Fili spent half of the next day disappearing into the bushes when his tea had been steeped with cascara bark.

It was after that particularly hard round of revenge that Sigurd, Kili, and Thrade came to an agreement that it was time for these exchanges to stop, before someone ended up maimed, missing, or six feet underground. So on the fifth day of the waged war, the three of them approached Fili thinking he would be the more reasonable of the two to accept an armistice. But it was to their dismay that Fili refused.

Kili was at a loss for what to do. He had been so sure his brother would be the adult and call off the childish warfare but to his surprise, Fili would not back down. He had answered with a firm ' _NO'_ , before muttering something about the scales still not in his favor and walked away. So it was with a heavy heart that Kili had to approach Sigurd and explain to her that he had failed her.

It was an action that brought a bitter taste to his mouth but there was nothing more he could do. Fili had been adamant in his answer. There would be no changing his mind. So when he returned to Sigurd, who was standing much too closely to Thrade for his liking, he felt a small reproach towards his brother as he let out a sigh and shook his head.

"Fili will not let up," Kili reported in dismay as he noticed the slouch of Sigurd's shoulder. "I am really sorry, Siggy. I tried, I really did, but for some reason Fili has been biased against Thyra since day one. I have never seen him outwardly dislike anyone without them giving him a good reason. I have no idea what is driving him to keep this situation going forward."

Sigurd gave him a small smile and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, which caused his heart to beat with a rapid flutter.

"Tis alright, Kili. I know you did your best and in defense of Fili, I am sure he really is not a malicious person. Thyra is not exactly the easiest person to get along with...at first." She let out a heavy sigh. "If Fili is not willing and he is usually the more cooperative, then Thyra will not even consider it."

They all let out a synchronized sigh. But then an idea hit Sigurd and she turned to Thrade.

"However, _you_ are the son and blood of Asha, she would cease if she were command一"

"No," Thrade frowned and shook his head as he cut her off before she could finish her thought. "I do not like using her oath with my mother against her agency," he answered firmly. "I am sorry but I will not do it."

Sigurd walked up to him and looked at him with pleading eyes. "I know, but this is for _her_ well-being."

It was this that swayed Thrade's decision. Kili could tell that it slightly hurt Sigurd as it was another confirmation that when it came down to it, it would seem that Thrade would always choose Thyra over her.

So with the decision made, Thrade approached Thyra and was none too soon as she was about to place a snake inside of Fili's bed roll. At first he tried just asking but when she went off on a rant about blood having blood, it was with great reluctance that he issued the order by her sworn oath that she stop.

To Kili's surprise the moment Thrade issued the order Thyra nodded and carefully let the snake go free. There was no hesitation or even an expression of begrudgement as she submitted to obedience. It was then that Kili began to truly understand just how strong Thyra was to her word.

And for a day all things went as they had one one week earlier.

It seemed that since Thyra was stopped before she retaliated from Fili's most recent attack, that Fili had seemed to feel he did not need to act out until he felt the score become uneven again. So for one day their company was at peace. Although some members were a little put off as their entertainment had been canceled. But several others took the opportunity to make a few wages as to who would be the one to fall victim next and what method would be used.

* * *

Fili was on edge. It had been nearly two days since he had added extra rocks to Thyra's bags. She had carried them for half a day before her aching back caused her to stop and look inside to see why it was heavier than usual. It had been two days and nothing malicious had occurred to him in retaliation.

He was nearly to the point of paranoia as he was expecting anything and everything to backfire on him. He could not sleep, he hardly ate, and he was so hyper aware that the smallest of movement such as the scurry of a squirrel caused him to startle. But no matter how much he agonized over the arrival of Thyra's next play, it never came. That is, until the third day, there was an unfortunate occurrence.

It came in the form of a rock that flew through the air and struck a rotten tree stump near the pathway.

It just so happened that the rock broke through the brittle bark and disrupted the home of a swarm of wasps. And it just so happened that the unfortunate person nearest to the stump was an unsuspecting Fili. So when the angry wasps erupted from their hive, it was Fili who received the wrath of the angry hornets.

They swarmed Fili, angrily attacking him in false accusement for ruining and invading their home. Immediately Fili began to dance around as his arms waved widely around his body in distress. But his act of defense only served to anger the wasps even more as they became more aggressive, crawling into his clothing and leaving red welts over his entire body.

In an act of desperation, Fili suddenly dropped his bag and began to strip down to his underclothing as he made a mad dash towards a small pond not far from them. In nothing but his undergarments, he plunged into the water. With their victim gone, the wasps quickly dispersed and Fili was able to safely emerge from the watery defense. But his torment was not over yet.

For as he climbed out of the pond, several black blobs covered his skin. From afar it looked like fallen leaves had clung to his skin but upon closer inspection one would realize they were moving. What was mistaken as dead leaves were really leeches.

It would not be a pleasant experience for anyone to endure but for any spectators it was comical, especially when Fili let out a high pitched screech when he realized what had latched onto his skin. Immediately Fili began to frantically pull the slimy bodies from his skin. Twisting and turning to reach around and pull a few from his back.

The chorus of laughter that filled his ears as he pulled the final parasite from his body caused him to still and look back up to the rest of the group. The entire company was beside themselves as they let out roars of laughter. Both Bofur and Nori were bowed over while Ori was wiping tears from his eyes. Even kind hearted Bilbo was letting out soft chuckles of amusement. While he was able to take notice of everyone laughing at him, there was really only one person that he could fully focus on.

Thyra.

She was clenching her sides as she doubled over in laughter. The sight of it brought forth a pent up rage.

Shaking with fury he stomped back up to the rest of the group. He paused only once to grab his pants and pull them on after shaking free several agitated wasps who were quick to sting him before flying off. But the pain went unregistered as he marched up to Thyra.

"You!" He bellowed in accusation. "You did that on purpose."

Thyra suddenly stopped laughing and gave him a hard look. "Did what?" She bristled in defense.

"This!" He shouted pointing to the bloody rings left by the leech's and red welts from the wasp stings. "This is your fault!"

"I did not throw you into that pond," she snapped back. "You threw yourself into that pond!"

"Only to escape the wasps that _**you**_ disrupted by throwing rocks into their hive!"

"What rocks?" She asked in a tone that conveyed true ignorance that Fili did not believe.

Fili physically struggled to keep his clenched fist pinned to his side instead of throwing it into her face. All his life he had been raised to never strike a lady. And never in his life had Fili ever been tempted to cause the fairer gender of his species any physical harm. He had never had the urge nor the desire. But at this particular moment, he struggled to obey the words of his mother to never hit a girl.

Thyra was no girl, she was no woman. She was a sadistic barbarian that took pleasure in his pain and humiliation. He had thought her to be one who would proudly own up to her actions but here she was, lying and looking so...innocent.

"The stone you threw at the wasp nest that caused all of this!" He hissed as he pointed to a particularly large welt.

Thyra frowned in confusion.

"I did not throw that stone. You are mistaken, Feelig."

It was the utterance of that loathsome name that caused Fili to snap. He pounced, taking Thyra down with him as he attacked her. Words of Régan escaped her mouth as utterances of Khazad insults left Fili's. The pair rolled around in the dirt, each taking turns on top and below the other. Arms and legs kicked out as the pair wrested around causing the rest of the group to step back, unsure as if to stop them or start taking bets.

Fili felt Thyra's hands push up against his bare chest as he grabbed a fist full of her hair and pulled. She bit down on his arm in retaliation and he moved to push her face into the ground when he felt a sudden yank on his ear and he felt himself become separated from Thyra and forced to stand.

"That is enough!" Thorin barked as he held the two by their ears. "This nonsense stops now!"

He looked to Thyra who was still covered in a red rash from poison oak a few days ago. Then he looked to Fili who was dripping wet and covered in red welts and bloody bite marks. He shook his head from the sight of them. He knew he should have stopped this long ago but he thought the two of them would not take things quite so far. It was obvious now that things had certainly gotten too far out of hand.

"This has gone past just affecting the two of you," he looked to Thyra. "No one wants to be near you because you have been in such a foul mood." He turned his head to look at Fili. "And you, no one can stand being near you because you reek like a skunk."

It was true. Thyra had somehow lured a skunk into Fili's bed by the fourth night and when Fili and gotten into bed that night, the skunk had felt threatened and used its best defense. Since then, Fili had been quarantined to keep his distance on account of his smell. Thanks to a remedy Sigurd made, the smell had faded slightly, but it was still there. And Thyra had been so miserable from the poison oak rash, that she had been unpleasant to everyone. Both of these had made it difficult when it came to making pairings for the night watch because no one wanted to be near them.

"I expected more from you Fili, the fact that you have been pulled into childish ways has been disappointing. I expected you to be the adult and put a stop to it. This is not behavior of an heir to a throne," he chastised, causing Fili to be unable to meet his uncle's eyes. But Thorin moved on to look at Thyra. "You may be young but I know you are considered of age amongst your people so I will not overlook such behavior from you either."

He released their ears and they each took a step back as they raised their hands to nurse the lingering pain of Thorin's tight grasp. Thorin looked between the two. Unsure of how to punish them. He had avoided putting them together thinking it would be best but it seemed that separation was not the answer to making sure the two of them got along. So if separation was not the answer...then perhaps the opposite.

"The both of you will be assigned first watch every night until I say otherwise. You will be partners and you will learn to get along or so help me I will tie your feet and hands together until you are in perfect sync with each other. Am I understood?"

As he finished with a deep tone of finality that warned them of great repercussion should they not listen, he looked between the two as they each vigorously nodded their heads. Content with their cooperation, Thorin stomped away, giving a gruff command to the rest of the company to start moving.

* * *

And it was these events that led to Fili and Thyra to sit on opposite sides of a tree as they took first watch. Fili glaring forward as he tried to ignore the feeling of Thyra's eyes searing a hole into the side of his head. It remained that way for the entire night, neither speaking nor moving from their seats until their relief came. The moment Kili and Sigurd showed up, they each stiffly stood up and without regarding the other, they each went to their separate bedrolls and fell asleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . .


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: The Peer Gynt Encounter: Part II

A week went by and things had settled down. As the group began to drift off into their beds after yet another day of trekking, Fili climbed to the top of the large rock formation that the group had made camp next to, using its hollowed out bottom to provide cover from prying eyes. Not long after he settled down to start his shift as first watch, he heard Thyra making her way up the rocks side to keep watch as well.

It was their seventh night taking the first watch together and their sentence had yet to be lifted by Thorin. After the fourth night the heated hatred died down as well as their rashes, welts, and contusions. For the last half of the week they spent their shifts in silence and slightly distanced. Perhaps it was not what Thorin had in mind when he wanted them to be paired together, but in Fili's mind, it was the best they could give him.

So it was a surprise to him when Thyra settled down next to him with her body positioned in the opposite direction to watch the other side of their surroundings. With her face set forward to stare out into the grassy plain that surrounded them, she crossed her legs and began to monitor for any signs of danger. Surprised by her violation of what he had thought to be a mutual agreement to keep their distance from each other, Fili gave her a inquiring look. Thyra caught sight of him from the corner of her eye and looked at him more directly.

"Why are you sitting here?" He asked while eyeing the minimal space that she had left between them.

Her head tilted to the side in contemplation then she shrugged. Silence fell upon them as they each looked out into the surrounding areas as they scanned their retrospective sections. A warm breeze rustled the dried long grass that covered the majority of the plain they were currently crossing. With it, the chirp of crickets filled the air and Fili caught sight of the occasional flicker of a fireflies luminescent light as it glided lazily in the darkness.

"Your lightening bugs are strange creatures," Thyra suddenly said.

Fili looked back to her in time to watch her reach out a hand and catch a firefly. Her fingers swiftly, but gentle cured around the insect, caging it in with her fist. For a moment its light was snuffed out. Raising her hand to her face, she slowly uncurled her fingers too peek inside. The light of the firefly seeped through the cracks in her fingers and illuminated her face in a faint glow.

There was a soft smile of appreciation on her lips as she stared down at it, her eyes mesmerized by the insects ability to create light. It was such an innocent and pure expression. Fili was reminded of having the same childlike awe when he had first seen them in his younger years. But the novelty had worn off when they became a common sighting during the summer time. The concept of being so enthralled by something as simple as a firefly in the summertime seemed foreign and strange now. But he supposed everything about Thyra was just that. Foreign and strange.

"You do not have them in the east?"

He saw her shake her head and then open her hand fully to let the firefly dance away. Her eyes followed its trail until it blinked out. With nothing to watch, she turned her head and looked at him.

"We do not have very many gentle creatures in my home lands. They died off long ago from predators." She said it so casually that it seemed like a simple fact of life than a dark reality. "Those that survived have become just as dangerous. They only bring darkness now."

Fili was not sure if she was speaking poetically or in actual literal terms but he did not linger on the possibilities. Instead his mind wandered to something else. Her statement about the lack of gentle creatures in her homeland was similar to the fate of Usalaag's creatures. It was evidence of the truth behind her stories.

As he was reminded of the story he felt a grim frown pull at his bottom lip.

"Do you really think I am like your foolish turtle? Selfish and unworthy of a crown?"

He watched as she slowly blinked then looked out across the flat lands around them.

"I never said you were like the turtle" Thyra replied plainly.

"But you call me Feelig because you think I am like him," Fili accused. "You said it yourself. That you did not think I would be a good king. Remember...back in the guild."

"You read too much into its meaning. It is a tale told to entertain small children. Nothing more." She said in a tone of finality, but then she looked at him curiously. "Why do you care so much about what I think? I am not your people."

Fili pondered her question. _Why did her opinion matter?_ All his life he had been praised for his behavior and accomplishments. He received top marks during his tutelage and school years. He was a strong fighter, more skilled with a blade than those his age and experience. And he knew that people looked up to him. Many times he heard people utter their praise to his mother or Thorin about how they looked forward to the day he took up his role as heir to Thorin.

These things he knew to be true. They were not just a delusion from an inflated were simple facts of life, measured by good marks, awards, and opinions of those above him. Yet somehow, despite this knowledge, the single opinion of someone he could barely identify above a stranger countered all of that.

"You are honest and unblinded by the reputation of the Durin name," he admitted.

Thyra looked at him without speaking for a long while. She then nodded as if accepting his answer then focused on watching their surroundings.

"I only call you Feelig because of the trolls," she said quietly.

Fili twisted his head to look at her, a befuddled expression on his face. "The trolls?" He asked in confusion.

"When you were lying on your back with that look on your face after knocking you down, it reminded me of the turtle at the end of the first saga. Laying on his back and wriggling around." Thyra explained, her attention remaining focused on the grassy land around them. There was a pause in conversation before Thyra spoke again. "I never thought you fully comparable...but...perhaps there are more similarities between you and Feelig now that I think about it."

He glanced towards her to see her look at him with contemplation.

"Feelig is not remembered as Feelig the foolish turtle. He is identified as a different creature," Thyra said informatively. "Usalaag appeared to him in a vision while he coward in his shell. The upturned turtle called out for help but Usalaag believed him unworthy since he had failed to help the other creatures. He told him that he would have to venture from his shell in order to save not only his people but himself. Otherwise he would die of starvation. Feelig said he was too afraid for his life and while starvation threatened him, he was adamant in his decision by the fact that his life would be extended far more by starving for weeks instead of becoming a predators meal the moment he left his shell. So Usalaag made him a promise that if he left his shell he would not let him die. It was only with this promise that Feelig finally ventured from his refuge." She paused, then gave him an expectant look. "Can you guess what happened to him?"

"He climbed the mountain," Fili guessed as he wondered why she was telling him the next part of the story. It felt strange exchanging words with her. Especially considering how they were managing to have a, dare he say, civil conversation.

"No," Thyra answered bluntly. "A flock of ravens swooped down and tore at his legs and body as they feasted upon his flesh. They took the meat from his ribs leaving him looking wiry and skinny. His head became more narrowed and his tail stretched out to the likeness of a whip. His legs were pecked and shortened so that his belly drug along the ground when he walked on the bloody stubs that remained."

"This is a tale you tell children?" Fili asked as he cringed at the unexpected turn of events. Then unaware that he had become enwrapped with the story, Fili remembered her earlier words. "Wait, I thought Usalaag said he would not let him die?"

"He did," Thyra agreed. "And he kept his promise. Feelig did not die. He was left bloody and wounded but not dead. His once long and limber legs now small stubbles and his body had become long and stretched from when he had been fought over by two ravens. He was gravely wounded but he survived."

"So what happened then?" Fili prodded curiously.

Thyra flashed him a knowing smile but did not answer his question. Instead, she asked her own.

"Do you know what happens when skin is exposed to the sun for too long?"

Not knowing what this had to do with the story but willing to go along with her tangent, Fili nodded.

"I have had my fair share of sunburns."

Thyra smirked.

"I do not speak of something so incidental as blemished skin. For seven days in the hottest week, of the driest summer, Feelig laid out in the sun. His flesh burned black and cracked. Blood flowed from where it cracked from the harsh sun staining a red pattern against the blackened skin. Where most things would have died, Feelig survived and Usalaag's promise became a curse to the pitiful creature."

"By the end of the week Feelig was no longer recognizable as a turtle nor did he exist as a turtle. He was now a lizard. Course skin covered his body and he suffered for many days as he called out to Usalaag for death. Usalaag came again in a dream but he did not take pity. He told Feelig that he must suffer for his years of slothfulness and now for his cowardice. He told the lizard that he would need to transform himself into a creature that would be worthy of such a calling in life. Feelig proclaimed his task impossible because he could not move his legs for the pain was too unbearable. But again Usalaag gave him no pity and instead told him to find a way to overcome his crippling weakness then left."

"So what did Feelig do?"

Thyra looked at him with a tilted head. "I never thought you to be one intrigued by fairy tales."

Fili paused for a moment. She was right, he had never believed in such nonsense. Even as a child, when his mother would recite their own cultures tales to him and his brother, he had always thought himself too grown for such things. Yet here he was as an adult, eagerly listening to a story like the children it was meant for.

"I'm not," he quickly defended before shrugging and adding offhandedly. "I am just bored."

Thyra raised a brow then shrugged and faced back towards the dark landscape. Silence fell between them. Fili fought the initial urge to inquire again but soon found himself obsessing over the unknown ending and prodded Thyra.

"So are you going to finish or not?" He asked.

Thyra turned her head and studied him carefully. Then finally spoke. "No," she replied. When he gave her an annoyed look of puzzlement, she turned back to the night. "Perhaps another night."

The rest of their watch went by quickly and the moment their shift ended and the next pair had been woken, they began to make their way back to their bedrolls. Fili's was just slightly farther away from the rest of the group on account of the putrid smell of skunk that still lingered on his blankets. Just as they were about to split ways, Thyra's quiet voice caused him to pause.

"Boil spruce wood and wash your blankets in it. It will help with the smell," she said before walking off without waiting for a response.

Fili stood and watched her walk to her own bed roll and lay down to rest. Confusion plagued him as his mind tried to understand the puzzle that was Thyra. But no answers came to him by the time he reached his bedroll. His thoughts were lost as he laid his head down to rest as he quickly fell asleep, a blessing as the rancid smell of skunk nearly made it unbearable to remain in his blankets. His last thought before falling into a deep sleep was to seek out some spruce first thing in the morning.

* * *

Since their first civil conversation there was a change in their interaction. While day time was not much of a change, aside from the absence of biting remarks and dirty looks, it was their nightly routine that had changed.

Each night they would sit next to each other. Each one positioned facing the opposite way to ensure all directions were being watched. And with each night they sat in each other's company, they became at more ease in each others company. For what had started as an unbearable punishment, it had become pleasant and relaxed. While still not friends, they were no longer enemies.

By the third night of their changed interaction, Fili became aware of the calmness that Thyra seemed to bring about when she was not glaring or giving out biting remarks. There was something about the air around her. It was refreshing and supposed he had not noticed it until now because he had always kept her at a distance until now. It was on the fifth night into their civil routine that he discovered the source when he took notice of her habit of chewing on mint leaves.

Fili had yet to fully throw all his previous cautions to wind and in return, he found that Thyra seemed to not have any more interest in him as before. But despite their lingering old feelings, they had found a mutual agreement. During the day most would think nothing had changed between them aside from the lack of outward aggression. But during the night when they were alone, they came together and whether it was out of duty to keep the company safe or something else entirely, they developed a strange bond.

Most nights were quiet. Neither of them bothering to break the peace that they had found with each other. So during these nights Fili often found his thoughts wandering to the future. More specifically his future as heir. What could or could not happen. What may or may not be. What he could succeed at or possibly fail at.

"You are troubled tonight, last night as well." Thyra commented, breaking the stillness of the night. She turned her head to look at him. "Already burdened by the weight of a crown before it has even been placed on your head?"

How Thyra managed to know the theme of his thoughts was beyond him. She was right, of course, he had been thinking of the burden of being Durin's heir. As of late he had been feeling inadequate. Whether it was Thyra's declaration a few months ago or her pondering of similarities between himself and the turtle ...the lizard ...Feelig.

He hated that a fictional story and the opinion of a single person could so easily sway his confidence but it was true. He had always strived to be the best and while everyone praised him for his efforts and skills he never truly felt that he was fit to be heir. Fili was no fool, he knew how lineage worked. He was heir because he was Thorin's sister's son. He was the closest male relative. It was because of this knowledge that when Thorin officially proclaimed him heir, Fili swore to himself that he would do all he could to be the best. To be worthy of the crown because of himself, not his blood.

Thorin had always praised him for his efforts and assured him that he was getting better. But yet he had been sucked into a skirmish with Thyra to which he had been chastised like the child he was behaving like. He had always been critical of himself but Fili had fooled himself into confidence when Thorin had asked him to join him in his quest to reclaim Erebor. For the first half of their journey his confidence had continued to grow. But now he realized that was perhaps his ego growing and not his potential. With that revelation, recent doubt had slunk back into his mind.

He wanted to blame Thyra as always, but for the first time he felt that urge wane away. He had no one but himself to blame. He had played his own part in getting caught by the trolls. He had sent the nervous hobbit to retrieve the ponies when it was he who had been charged with keeping an eye on them. It was he who had played the first of many petty pranks exchanged between him and Thyra. And it had been he who had started the fight from several days ago. It was just as Thyra had proclaimed, he was no king, he was a turtle, a shriveled lizard unable to bare the burden placed upon them.

"What makes you think I am bothered?" He asked. Part of it was instinctive defense but another part of him was genuinely curious as to how she knew.

"You cannot keep you right leg still when you are agitated." She commented causing Fili to suddenly become aware of his vigorously bouncing knee.

He quickly stilled his leg with his hand and looked at her. Previously he had always thought her eyes cold and menacing but this time he finally saw something different as he looked into her onyx orbs. There was a knowledge held in her eyes. Knowledge gained by experience that someone of even his age should not have gone through.

"Have you always been so observant?"

Her mouth twitched at his avoidance to confirm that she was right but she shook her head.

"It is something I have learned in more recent years." She gave him a tilted look, her dark eyes riveted on him. "What bothers you?" she asked, reversing the subject of conversation back to him instead of herself.

Fili had never admitted his insecurities to anyone. Never his brother or mother, not even Thorin. Yet when she asked, he found himself easily spilling his deepest secrets.

"Thorin does not have any children," he began, not catching the odd look in Thyra's face at his words as he stared down at his hands. "As the closest male blood relative to him, I am the heir. But sometimes I feel inadequate. I am only heir because he has no children of his own. I am Thorin's heir by circumstance not by choice. I gained this title because of who I was born to not for anything I have done."

Thyra let out a snort.

"What?" Fili asked, frowning at the humor she was finding at his most vulnerable worries.

"Our worlds are just different, that is all."

"How so?"

"The throne is not passed down to the most direct descendant of the Régínn. They are chosen and gifted by their predecessor. Second sons, granddaughters, people of no blood relation…." she drifted off as her thoughts seemed to become preoccupied.

Fili's brow cinched at the idea. "So there is no royal family? No one bloodline?"

Thyra looked down and traced the black lines inked on her arm. "There is bloodline...and family. But not always. There was once many."

Her words were becoming harder to understand as her accent grew thicker in her struggle to convey the concept. Fili caught the frustration in her face when he could only look at her in confusion.

"It different," she sighed out finally, giving up on clarifying any more. "That is all."

Fili thought it better than to prod any further seeing as she was already agitated. He was growing to like this new change in their interactions. A somber silence fell between them. Fili was not feeling any less burdened by his thoughts, and he could tell by the far away stare Thyra had in her eyes, she too had something heavy on her mind. To what the cause, he was not sure but he found himself wondering if it was something more than the simple struggle of communication.

He thought about her predicament and wondered how truly different her home was from here. He did not know much about the east. And what little he had heard, had been so unfathomable he could not believe the stories to be true. Elves that had bred with the fell of the earth so frequently that they had become more orc than elf. Foul beasts that made the evil that lurked within middle earth quake in fear. Winged beasts that drank the blood of the living and demons that crawled from the cracks beneath the earth's surface to pull their victims back to the dark depths from whence they came. There was no denying Thyra was strong and skilled. Given her size it made her power even more admirable.

"Feelig did not remain a lizard for long," Thyra suddenly said breaking Fili from his thoughts.

Caught off guard by her sudden change of topic, it took a moment for Fili to process what she had said.

"When Feelig realized that death would not come, he decided that since there would be no end to his suffering, he could at least try to end the suffering of others," Thyra continued. "He began to walk on his bloody stumps...

 _Each step was excruciating pain, as if the ground was littered with molten iron and broken glass. By the time he reached the base of the mountain, three days had already passed by. Looking up at the great height of the mountain, Feelig realized that while in his condition he would not be able to make it to the top in in time to save the others. His burnt skin was too charred to give him proper movement for climbing. His limbs were too stiff to stretch, too short to reach, and the pain that he felt in his feet was too much to bare his weight._

 _There was also another problem._

 _The predators had heard tell of the mighty creator who lived on top of the mountain. During the time that Feelig had hidden in his shell, the gentle creatures that managed to escape their killers, had lost hope in their king and took it upon themselves to attempt the ascent of the great mountain. So the wolves and bears, the hawks and eagles, all moved up to the mountain side where they stood guard and hunted any beast that tried to summit the mount._

 _Immediately, Feelig felt hopeless and he was tempted to return to his shell. But he caught sight of what was left of his subjects, their curious eyes peering out from the rocks and tree roots that they had hidden themselves under. He saw the pity in their eyes for his hideous appearance and he saw the disappointment they had in his lack of ability. But worst of all, he saw their regret for ever making him their king._

 _Feelig crawled to the edge of what once used to be the shimmering pond from once he reigned. Now it was only a dry bed of rocks that served as tombstones for the fish that once swam in the life giving water._

 _In the middle was a small puddle, murky and brown. It was all that was left of the once grand pond. Within the water he caught his reflection and with horror in his eyes, he took in the hideous creature that he had become._

 _Usalaag's words came to his mind, reminding him that he would need to change himself. As he gazed into the reflection to look upon the unrecognizable face that looked back at him, Feelig pondered the meaning behind Usalaag's command. Had he not already changed?_

 _As he looked into the pool, he noticed that his black skin had grown ashy in spots. He raised an arm and scratched at the spot. It peeled away to reveal a shiny patch of black beneath. It was smooth and where the crusted blood had once bled, there was an intricate flash of red. It was striking against the ebony that colored the rest of the new layer of skin._

 _Feelig was reminded of the beautiful shell that he once proudly carried on his back. Turning his head to admire the patch from a different angle, Feelig caught sight of another spot of flaky skin. He scratched it only to find the same hidden beauty beneath._

 _Suddenly, Feelig was struck with an idea and began to rub more vigorously at all of his body._

 _Where his stubby arms could not each, he rubbed against the bed of rocks that surround the area. He rubbed his head, and he rubbed his tail. He lay on his back and wriggled around, turning over to rub his belly across the course stones. Soon the hard blackened skin that was once course and stiff, began to peel off. Layer after layer, Feelig shed his skin until his entire body was sleek and smooth. His skin was was still black but it shined with a new gloss as his smooth scales reflected the sun's heat._

 _Taking a step towards the pond to see his reflection again, Feelig was suddenly reminded of his painful legs that were now useless to him. Long ago, before he was a lizard and before he was a turtle, his legs were his most prized possessions._

 _As a frog he had bound from place to place, leaping and jumping spectacular distances by the aid of his powerful muscles. Now as he looked upon them, shortened and unusable, he felt hot tears of remorse for how far he had fallen. Had he not been so lazy in his years as a turtle he could have easily jumped up to the top of the mountain._

 _With a remorseful cry, Feelig bit his legs off. One, two, three, and finally with a great snap, he ripped his final leg off, leaving him to lay flat on his belly._

 _At first Feelig only wiggled around like a worm after a rainstorm, but after familiarizing himself with his new body, he was able to move forward. Smooth and fluid like the ripples of water did he move. With great speed, Feelig was able to travel swiftly through the lands until he had finally reached the base of the mountain._

 _Changed and humbled, Feelig was determined to become the king that his subjects needed. And thus was the end of Feelig the crippled lizard, for now, he was Feelig the snake._

"Now you know the second part of _**Skjaldbaka, eðla, og snákur**_ " Thyra finished. "Feelig: The Humbled."

"And I do not suppose you will be offering the ending tonight?" Fili mused with a hint of humor in his voice.

Thyra's mouth curved to one side. "No, not tonight."

. . . . . . . . . . . .


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: The Bear Encounter: Part I

"Why don't you like to talk?".

Fili posed the question during the second week since Thorin had decreed that he and Thyra would be sharing shifts every night for an undetermined amount of time. It was strange, but it no longer felt like a punishment. They were still not friends, but Fili had to admit that there was a shift between them. They hardly talked, mostly because at the beginning Fili had wanted nothing to do with her. But as time went on and tension softened, Fili began to wonder more and more about the Régínn girl whose presence was becoming more familiar with each night.

Thyra looked up from the green mint leaf she was holding between her fingers and looked at him thoughtfully. Fili watched as her eyes seemed to suddenly, glaze over as if lost in thought.

It was only for a moment, for when she blinked, they returned to their previous deep contemplation. She tilted her head then shifted her crossed legs and leaned forward on her thighs, her eyes vigilant as ever as they peered out into the darkness.

Quiet fell on them and Fili moved his attention back to his own side of the perimeter to watch, a small flicker of his old feelings of annoyance warming within him. He still did not like her blatant ignoring.

"Would you like to play a game?" she suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Her question caught him off guard. Despite the fact she had ignored his own question, he had not expected her to speak at all. And to extend an invitation for a game was even more unexpected. He looked at her warily. Wondering if she were being serious, or if she were about to spit out a traditional Thyra abrasive remark that always left the air cold and uncomfortable, Fili decided his curiosity was worth being irked if it was a trick.

"What kind of game?" he asked suspiciously. "I don't see you for one to play games," he said, then added as an afterthought. "Except perhaps the quiet game."

She smirked. "I don't know of this quiet game," she replied. "But I like how it sounds. You will teach it?"

Fili raised an eyebrow. "Now?"

Thyra shook her head. "Later. Now we play my game," she commanded, leaving no room to argue.

Fili adjusted himself by slowly turning himself to more directly face her. "Ok, but you still haven't told me what game we are playing."

"Answer for question," she answered.

"Answer for question," Fili repeated

Thyra nodded. "You know?"

Fili shook his head.

"We exchange questions. You ask, I answer, then we switch. I ask, you answer. Second person gets two questions in a row. Then the original person gets two," she explained as if giving a battle plan before a raid. "You understand?"

Fili nodded but then paused. "What if we don't want to answer? What if you ask me a question and I don't want to answer the question?"

"Then you don't get to ask a question and the game is over," she explained. "You give answer in exchange for question. Therefore, it depends on how much you want answers in return. If person answer your question, then you must answer. Each person gets the same amount. You understand?" she repeated again, her tone still instructional but wavering in patience.

Fili nodded, his interest peaked with the idea that Thyra would play such a game. In a way, she was offering to open up to him and he could get some answers.

"Who goes first," he asked.

Thyra pointed to him. Fili took that as his answer and thought for a moment. There were so many options. He was not sure where to begin. As his mind searched his earlier question that started this discussion came to mind.

"Why don't you like talking with other people?" he asked curiously. "I see you watching people converse and it's obvious that you have things to say but I rarely see you speak them. You speak more often out of necessity rather than leisure...why is that?"

She was quiet for awhile and Fili was beginning to think Thyra was rethinking playing the game. But then she cocked her head to the side and he realized she was actually contemplating her answer.

"I like to speak. But in my own language," she finally answered. "Westeron is not a language spoken by my home land. I speak...spoke," she corrected herself, "little when I came here. Siggy teach me but I still make mistakes. I don't like it...people think me slow. While their ignorance gives me an advantage, I dislike not being able to communicate properly. I feel like fool, so I choose to limit."

Fili stared at her as she confessed her answer and the reality of it sunk in.

Thyra was insecure.

This little fact left him baffled. She had always seemed so confident but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. There were only a few occasions when he heard her speak more than only a sentence or two. And when she did, there were langued pauses before giving answers or speaking to someone. When she did this, he had always thought she was debating on if she wanted to bother conversing or not. But now he realized, she was translating her response and trying to avoid errors.

"If your people do not know the common language, how did you learn it?" He asked as he recalled Asha telling them that she had already known to speak it when she had met her.

He did not know much about the East. But he had always thought the common speech was universal, but then again, perhaps it was called westron for a reason. When his questions ceased from his mouth, he continued to look at her as he waited for an answer but she merely shook her head.

"That is not how the game works," she stated. "One question, one answer."

Fili let out a sigh and nodded.

"My turn," she said, bringing his attention back to her. She waited for a moment as if to ponder what question to ask. Fili knew the moment she had selected one because her head tilted to the side and she let her eyes run up and down him. "What is your favorite food?"

The simplicity of the question threw him off. Unsure as to why she would request such a simple thing, he easily answered it.

"My mother's fresh apple turnovers with a sprinkle of cinnamon sugar and caramel."

Her nose seemed to wrinkle but she quickly seemed to get over her disgust when she asked her next question.

"Why do you dislike Thrade?"

Her blunt interrogation took him off guard.

"I donー" he stopped himself mid protest when Thyra gave him a look.

He was not sure how she knew, but somehow she seemed to have picked up his hesitancy of the man. It really should not have surprised him with it being Thyra, but Fili had been completely accepting to Thrade. He conversed and sparred with him. Thrade was just like all of his friends back in the blue mountains...yet...he let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair.

"He is a good man," Fili stated. "A good fighter, treats those around him with respect and kindness…"

"But…" Thyra encouraged.

Fili thought long and hard. _Why did he dislike Thrade?_ His mind played out the first time he had met the man all the way to the present time. As he did, he picked out all the moments that seemed to cause his disapproving actions.

The way he had seemed to seek out reasons to be touching Thyra. He always seemed to overlook a love sick, starry eyed Sigurd whenever she tried to do anything that would pair them off. The disregard for the girl's affections seemed to always chafe at him every time he saw his own brothers down cast eyes as he watched from the sidelines. The way Thrade always seemed to be watching Thyra, be it from the corner of his eye or blatant staring as she moved around the camp. Thorin seemed to favor him so easily and take him under his wing as if he were his own son, making Fili feel like the fatherless nephew he really was. And the way Thrade sought out to always be near Thyra. All of these he found disapproval in.

When he realized the frequency in which his disfavored features of Thrade seemed to rotate around Thyra, Fili cast a side glance at her. As expected her eyes were steadily fixed on him, awaiting his answer. Fili swallowed the strange lump in his throat as he wondered why exactly he disapproved the interactions between Thyra and Thrade so much.

He shook his head. "There are certain...ways in which he interacts with select people that I do not approve of," he henged.

Thyra's brow raised, "What ways?"

Fili gave her a smirk, "That is not how the game works," he said, throwing own previous words back at her. "One question for one answer, and I believe it is my turn again."

Thyra let out a small grunt but the twitch of her lips and nod of approval told him she was accepting.

"You catch on quickly," she replied, a tone of amusement in her voice. "What is your question?"

"Why do you ignore Thrade's affection?" he asked while the topic of Thrade lingered on his mind.

"Because I do not return them," she stated matter of factly.

Fili felt there was more to it than her simple answer but given the fact she did not demand more for his earlier answer, he let it slide.

"How old are you?"

She seemed surprised by his question. But a half smile came to her face as she leaned back on her hands, taking up a rare pose of relaxation.

"Seven and sixty winters," she answered.

It was not a surprise but at the same time, it was. At times she looked and acted far older than her real age. But on other occasions he had seen times and moments when she looked far younger.

"What?" she asked and Fili realized he was staring at her.

At the moment she looked older than the age she claimed. With her hair unbound and free of her usual skin tight braids, along with the dark shadows that accentuated her bone structure, it seemed to age her. That, along with the ease in which he conversed with her at the moment made him forget that he was her senior. It was not by much given their life span, but it was enough to be significant at this point in their lives. She was not even of age.

Fili shrugged, "Sometimes I forget how young you are."

She smirked. "I understand that is good in your culture. Youth is valued."

Fili nodded, then asked, "Is it not the same in yours?"

She shook her head and cast her eyes around, checking their perimeter as she answered. "No. We value wisdom and age. Youth is a thing we all acquire when we are born but longevity is a thing only few manage to be successful in gaining in a lifetime."

Fili pondered her words but he could not relate to them. He knew many people of old age. In fact, he seemed to know more people of old age then younger. A fact in which he voiced.

"Is old age really that great of a feat? If I am not mistaken, I know more people who would be considered well seasoned than those still in their youth."

A grim smile came to her face at his words. Slowly, she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her legs and clasped her hands together. She stared down at them as she began to speak again.

"And why do you think that is?" She asked slowly, her eyes moved up to meet his. "Youth defended Erebor when the dragon came. Youth died when Erebor fell. Youth are who went on to fight at the battle of Azanulbizar. Yes I know the stories," she added when Fili showed a small sign of surprise at her knowledge of history. "Like you said, I often listen rather than speak," she supplied with a sly smile before continuing back to the topic at hand. "As I was saying, youth procreate, but what happens when there are few youth? A population takes generations to recover after such history. Those that died far outweigh those that are still living. You cannot deny their should be more of your age as well as younglings, but there are not, because longevity is a rarity in an age of war. Should your people live in peace long enough again, you will see a shift in the balance."

Never in his life had Fili ever thought these things. Never in his life he questioned such things. But as he thought about it, he realized everything she said was correct. The more he studied her, he realized this was not a knowledge passed down, this was a knowledge learned first hand.

"What happened to your people?" he asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

She stared at him vacantly with her eyes glazed over, lost in thought. He was beginning to think she had not heard him. But when he opened his mouth to ask again, she cut him off.

"I believe it is no longer your turn to ask questions," she said quickly.

"Ok," Fili conceded with a nod, he could wait for his next turn.

As if sensing his train of thought, Thyra narrowed her eyes as if to read him. Her mouth pulled into a frown. "I choose to stop. I no longer owe an answer therefore I have no debt."

Fili frowned. He was not ready for the game to end. He still had questions. "But–" he moved to voice his protest but stopped when she abruptly stood and looked down at him.

"That is how the game is played." Her eyes cast around the perimeter. "I am going to walk the area and check to make sure no one is approaching."

Fili frowned but she had dissolved into the darkness before he could protest.

She did not reappear until first light when it was time to break camp, keeping him from speaking with her as they went about preparing for the day. And for the rest of the day she avoided him. In fact, for the rest of the week they hardly spoke unless out of necessity. Azog and his filth had caught up to them which meant they rested little and remained quiet in an effort to remain undetected and ahead of their pursuers.

* * *

The door violently shook against the bear's mighty paws as it raged against the heavy weight of the large planks of maple wood. As a collective group they all pushed together and with their combined strengths the door finally slammed shut long enough for Dwalin to pull the heavy latch into place.

Tentatively, they began to step back from the door. Their breaths held as they anticipated the moment when the wood would crack, splinter, and give way to the bear's relentless pounding. For a minute they all watched it rattle and shake until it ceased. No one dared to move as they listened to the heavy, agitated breathing of the bear from the other side of the door. It was only when the distinct sound of its retreating footsteps filled their ears that they all let out a synchronized sigh.

"What was that?" It was Ori who posed the question that was running through everyone's minds.

As a unit, all eyes fell on Gandalf who looked disheveled as he removed his hat and wiped his brow. He found a surface the lean against and took a moment to catch his breath.

"That is our host," he stated, earning various looks of confusion before he explained further. "His name is Beorn, he's a skin-changer. At times he's a huge black bear, others he's a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with. However, he is not overly fond of dwarves."

The company exchanged uneasy glances at this. Ori peeked out of one of the windows next to the door, only to be pulled away right after by his brother.

"Come away from there," Dori chastised. "It's not natural," he muttered. "None of it. It's obvious, he is under some dark spell.

"Don't be a fool," Gandalf grunted. "He's under no enchantment but his own."

Dori did not seem convinced by Gandalf's words but he gave a nod of his head anyways to satisfy the old wizard.

"Alright now, get some sleep all of you. We'll be safe here tonight."

At his words he turned around to peer out the window as the rest of the company began to explore the large farm house and make some makeshift beds. Bilbo lingered for a moment, still shaken by their flight from the orcs and bear. He heard Gandalf mumble something offhandedly to himself that weakened the safety of his earlier words.

* * *

Having a safe place to sleep with a real roof and plenty of cushions and hay to serve as a mattress, made for an easy nights sleep. However, having a scheduled time of waking repeatedly at the same time for several weeks prior, made it difficult to take advantage of such a rare opportunity for others. Fili was one of these others.

While the snores and happy hums of sweet dreams chorused from the rest of the company spread around the farm house, Fili found himself promptly waking at the same time he had for the past several weeks out of habit, rather than the nudging encouragement of the previous watch. He tried to lay still and fall back asleep but it seemed despite how tired he felt, his body would simply not give up its habit of being up at this time of night. With a silent sigh he sat up and looked around the room.

It was strange looking around the darkness and taking in the structures contents. With everything being overly large, even for a person of the human race, it made Fili feel very small. It made him began to wonder if this was how the hobbit felt all the time.

Thinking of the halfling, Fili cast his eyes around to find him curled up on an overly sized chair cushion with his head resting on a sack of flour. It didn't look like the most comfortable position but he supposed it was a better bed than anything any of them had seen since leaving the guild.

The sound of a light rustle caused his attention to draw away from the hobbit and angle his eyes higher up to where the small loft was located over the barn area of the house. As the dying fire in the middle of the square cabin failed to reach far enough to illuminate the rafters, it left him looking at a dark space that was impossible to distinguish anything that lay within that space. At the edge, he could see the golden straws of hay peeking over the wooden slats that made up the loft floor.

There was another, much louder rustle, and his mind became alert. Before, he had assumed the sound had been caused by one of the many rodents he had seen scurrying around the home. But this second rustle could only be caused by something of much larger mass than a single mouse.

Curiosity peaked, and too restless to let it go, Fili quietly stood from his makeshift bed and made his way to the ladder that led up to the loft. The first rung gave out an awful groan when he put the smallest amount of weight on it. He paused for a moment, casting a glance to assure he did not wake anyone as he took notice of the rustling pause. Trying again, this time skipping the first step, Fili began to hoist himself up towards the loft. A few other steps gave out small creaks but nothing compared to the first.

As his head crested over the loft floor, he was met with the sight of a small figure sitting near a square widow cut out of the middle of the far wall. The shutters were pushed wide open, letting in a refreshing night air as well as a cascade of moonlight.

It did not surprise him that Thyra was awake as well.

He took the moment of seeing her candid profile as she stared out the window with her head leaned against the frame as she gazed out. It was a strange sight seeing her looking so relaxed. Gone was the rigid posture that always made her alert, gone were the observing eyes looking for danger, and gone was the stoic expression that guarded her thoughts.

Instead she looked out across the night, her eyes tracing the terrain with no purpose but to trace the lines of the silhouetted trees and hill sides. There was no searching for danger, just a simple appreciation for the lands hidden beauty. With the absence of seriousness, her face was left open and vulnerable as a lost in thought expression settled on her features.

It did not last long for as soon as his hand reached for the top of the ladder, her head swiveled to face him, her stoic mask falling onto her face while her body straightened into a more alert stature.

Fili did his best to ignore the penetrating stare of her dark eyes as he moved from ladder to loft and made his way over to where she sat. She said nothing as he settled on the opposite side. He threw his legs over the window ledge to let them hang over as leaned his left shoulder on the frame for stability as he let silence settle between them. Weeks ago the silence would have felt heavy between them but now it was nothing but a peaceful ease.

In the distance a loud roar sounded, causing Fili to jump as his eyes sought out the source. From the corner of his eye he saw Thyra stiffen as well, her dark eyes sweeping the perimeter. When there was no other disturbance to follow, Thyra seemed to settle down as she slowly moved back to a slightly more relaxed stature. With her no longer alert, Fili himself felt his body ease and relax. Settled into calmness, he let his attention drift to Thyra.

Next to her sat the leather bound journal he often saw her sketching in. Taking in the etched design on the front, Fili suddenly had an urge to see what sights the leather cover held within its pages. He had seen her drawings before, the ones that she had done for Sigurd, but could not help but wonder what Thyra specifically deemed worthy enough to be copied onto paper for her own personal log of memories.

Without thinking his hand reached out to touch the edge of its cover. His movement caused Thyra's hand to dart out quickly and slap protectively over the cover. Her head slowly turned to look at him as her dark eyes gave silent warning.

"May I?" He found himself asking and to his surprise, after a long, hesitant pause, Thyra gave a single nod and lifted her hand away.

With gentle hands, Fili opened the book to a random page and began to peruse the contents within. Most were landscapes made up of unfamiliar mountain ranges and coasts. Occasionally an animal or creature in varying degrees of size and familiarity would appear. He paused on one particularly terrifying creature that Fili wondered if it was a creature from a nightmare or if such a thing really existed. Whichever it was, be it a thing of fantasy or reality, he could decipher from the detailed shading of its scales and horns that Thyra had seen this creature more than once to produce such lifelike details.

The more images he took in, the more he realized something. Thyra did not draw people. Not in a single image was there a portrait of a person, just scenes. It made him wonder why the absence but before he could ask, he came across a particular picture that made him pause and study.

At first, Fili thought he was looking at Erebor. But the more he looked at it, the more he realized the differences between his ancestors and future home verses the place drawn on parchment. The entrance to what could only be a mountain kingdom, was constructed and carved not into a single mountain, but within an entire mountain range. And what he had first assumed was the long lake set at the lone mountains base, was much too large and vast to be a lake. When he noticed the large ships sketched along the shoreline and docked in the bay, he realized that it was the ocean shore he was looking at. If not, at the very least it was a sea.

His eyes focused on the body of water. He had only seen the ocean a few times in his life, but never had he seen it so beautiful.

"What is this place?" he asked, turning the journal so she could see as he watched her face.

A wistful look came to her face as she studied the picture. "Valhil," she said with a near hallowed tone. "My home."

Fili automatically looked down at the picture again, his fingers traced the mountain range then swept across the sea that had been tenderly colored with vivid detail. The waves and transitions of colors had been done with such skill that it seemed almost as if the drawn tide were moving, the foamy froth that lapped along the coast seemed to bubble on the paper as small boats sailed across the bay.

"It's beautiful," he murmured, then added, "do you miss it?"

The question fell from his lips without much thought, but when she did not answer immediately, his attention moved up to her. He had forgotten whom he had been speaking to. But as he looked up at her face, she did not seem angry as he expected her to be. Instead she seemed slightly thoughtful.

"Yes, and no," she said quietly.

"Answer for a question?" Fili asked, wanting more from her and knowing she would not give it freely.

Thyra seemed to contemplate his proposal for a moment then nodded her head. "Yes. But me first," she demanded, to which Fili could not help but feel himself smile. He figured that would be the price.

* * *

It was his turn now. Their game had gone on much longer than usual as they were now on their tenth round. It was something they had repeated several times in the past week and he had finally caught onto the true logistics and strategy of the game.

It was all about wording, timing, and build up. Broad questions earned vague answers but specific answers earned short answers, forcing one to find a medium between the two to gain the most information per question. Timing meant you started with small questions and eased into the bigger, deeper questions. And for the later of the two types, you stagard them out according to if the answer was in debt of an answer or if it evened out the players. If it was even, they could easily stop the game without consequence and the questioner would be left answerless. However, wait until the answerer owed an answer and they would be forced to give the truth regardless of privacy or secrets. It was this reason he realized it earned the status of a game. It was a game of risk because you were gambeling away the privacy of your thoughts and mind. You made yourself vulnerable in order to gain knowledge.

As it turned out it was a favorite pastime of the Régínn. Which made sense for people who did not believe in lies passing from their lips. Fili had first thought the game was flawed as anyone could just lie but having learned at least this minimal fact of her culture, he realized why it would be such a popular game. For while they would not lie, Fili found that the Régínn had other means of deception. Omission was one loophole while the other was straight up refusing to say anything. Both strategies he knew Thyra to use naturally with others but with the game, those options were removed.

So far Fili had not learned a lot of anything he deemed truly personal as he had not understood the strategies at first. But even the smallest scrap of knowledge he earned, he clung to and reanalyzed her each time.

She hated sweets. Both her parents had passed on to the halls of her people's gods but he had yet to learn the cause. She had siblings but again, he did not know how many or if they were brothers or sisters. He favorite color was purple. She received her first tattoo when she was six years of age, earned on her naming day when a child is considered old enough to begin contributions into society. In other words, begin training for battle.

He had just finished telling her of what he remembered of his father. It was not exactly the hardest question to answer but it was certainly still a sore spot. But he answered it anyways, eager to learn more of her. It surprised him that she would time it so that he could back out but then again, he had noticed Thyra did this often, as if she was testing out the waters of where his limits were on certain subjects. It was a strategy he himself had just learned the other night when he took notice of the patterns when she ended the game. For her, it was family and details of the events that brought her to the east that caused her to quickly shut him out.

With her now in the imbalance, Fili searched his mind for a question that he truly wanted an answer for. As he thought, his eyes wandered to where Thyra's finger was absentmindedly tracing the black lines that ran down her forearm. He had asked many questions about the various tattoos that marked her body, but never this one. As he took it in, he realized that there was a patch of irritated skin where a new forked marking had been etched into her skin recently, adding a fourth branch to the design. He found this odd in the way that adding to her collection of black lines would be deemed a priority given their current predicament.

"What does that tattoo symbolize?" he asked, reaching out to gently trace the new line before looking quickly up to gauge her reaction.

He saw hesitancy in her eyes, telling him that whatever the answer was, it was a touchy subject. She looked down at her arm where his finger was still poised against the smith skin of her inner arm. Becoming aware that he was still touching her, he quickly retracted his hand as Thyra moved her own to begin tracing the lines.

" _ **R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ _ **,**_ " she answered in her mother tongue after an extended length of time. Then she interpreted it. "Blood rage."

Fili looked at the marking with a new light. Now that he had a name it seemed obvious to him now. Instead of lightning, it was a vein. His mouth automatically opened to ask what exactly blood rage was but he stopped himself when he looked up into her eyes and saw the guarded warning. Automatically, Fili knew that this was a topic she did not want to discuss. And now with their tally no longer out of balance, Fili decided to save the question for a more strategic time. So instead he asked a different question that seemed innocent enough.

"Why did you hate me when we first met?" he asked. "And before you say you didn't, I want to know why you seemed to treat me differently than the others," he clarified, for they both knew that she did.

He watched her closely, waiting for an answer but to his surprise, it did not come as quickly or easily as expected. In fact, it did not come at all. Her eyes seemed to glaze over as she stared back at him. The usually passionate and expressive luster of her eyes became empty and vacant as she became lost in thought.

* * *

 _9 years ago: The outskirts of Valhil capital Stronghold Of the Régínn_

 _The air was thin at the top of the mountain, making it difficult to breath and Thyra's breaths were ragged as she finally reached its summit. Adjusting the bag that was weighing down on her shoulders she took in the small dip of a valley below._

 _At the bottom of the shallow valley lay a half frozen lake. The exposed water rippled in the gentle wind, its surface crystal clear, revealing the pebbled bottom beneath its icy surface. But Thyra's eyes only remained on the lake for a moment before moving to the point of her final destination._

 _Standing at the edge of the lake was a small hovel, over run with vines and grass as it stood crooked from the years of holding up heavy snow and facing gusting winds. It gave the impression that it was on the verge of collapsing at any moment. It had been years since she had last laid eyes on it and there was a reason why she avoided it. Already her stomach churned and burned within her chest as the bitter taste of bile rose up to the back of her throat._

 _Stringing curse words beneath her breath, she forced her feet to carry her body down to the small structure. All too soon she found herself passing through the threshold. Thyra's nostrils where instantly filled with the smell of burning sage and a mixture of other incense that filled the single roomed dwelling with a smoky layer. Her eyes took in only darkness at first until they adjusted to the dim setting. A light emanating from the dimming fire that warmed the small space illuminated the room that just barely managed to cut through the smokey haze of the air._

 _Dried herbs hung from the rafters as tangled strings tied in intricate knots and decorated with feathers and bones hung down the sides of the walls. Various skins and woven cloth carpeted the dirt floor and the sparse furniture was shoved into the corners and along the walls. In the middle of the room sat a man grinding a dried flower into a fine powder._

" _It has been a long time since you have stepped past my threshold," came the man's raspy and wheezing voice._

 _Thyra stilled, she had not made a sound upon entering but she knew better than to be surprised. The man had most likely known she would be coming even before she had made the decision to make the journey yesterday morning._

" _Thyra of the rage blood," the man said as he lifted unfocused, milky blind eyes in her direction. "I saw you coming to me at the last full moon but I wondered if you would truly arrive. Then again, when the fates have decided there is no changing their minds. Despite your love for prolonging the inevitable"_

 _Thyra continued to remain silent but she moved herself further into the room and settled down on the ground with her legs crossed and palms gripping tightly on her knees. The man's blind eyes followed her every movement as if his long ago faded eyes were brand new._

" _You have gained many names since I last proclaimed that the rage blood runs through your veins. Many of them I hear from those who come in and out of my home, asking me questions and bringing me news. They speak often of you. Thyra the Reaper, The Valkyrie with clipped wings, Thyra the traitor, Aelle's executioner, The Serpent's Fang, the true_ _ー"_

" _That is enough," Thyra's stoney voice cut off old man's rambling. "You saw me coming therefore you know why I am here."_

 _The shrill and mocking cackle of the man filled the air. His face glimmered with amusement as he stared blindly at her. Finally his mouth closed but Thyra could still hear his mockery sounding out in his throat. She frowned at being at the expense of his amusement but remained silent. As the blind man settled down, his head slowly began to shake back and forth._

" _I will not tell you your future," he stated firmly._

 _Thyra gritted her teeth. "I brought payment."_

 _The man's face flickered again with amusement. "It is not payment I want," he stated._

" _Then what do you want?" She ground out._

 _He leaned forward. "I want what the fates want," he declared in a low whisper. Then his face became void of any amusement as he sat back and spoke again, this time in a dark anger. "You came to me last time and I told you your fate, you denied it and look at what those choices have resulted in." He shook his head. "No I will not tell you your fate because you already know it, Thyra of the rage blood. I told you your fate yet you chose to go against it."_

 _Amusement adorned his face again._

" _You angered the fates Thyra, you angered the gods," he said with a smile. "They had much in store for you and as consequences to your actions, they still do. You may think you changed your fate but all you managed was to alter the path. No matter the detours or side roads, they will all still end in the same place. The fates will have have their ending that you so easily offended. And as reprimand to your offense, they have laid out much more than you could ever imagine."_

 _Thyra frowned, not happy with the uneasy feeling she was getting. She pushed her unease down by going on the defensive, not willing to submit to the threatening fear._

" _I have heard enough," she growled. Standing up swiftly she reached into her bag and dropped a large package of dried fish, the salty scent of its preservatives filling the air and causing the blind man's mouth to water, as she offered him his favorite delicacy. "Tell your fates that they are wrong and I will find my own way in seeing that the Régínn are restored to the proud people they once were. Hymir will have his heir placed onto the throne and the will of the eye will be as useless as your own clouded eyes."_

 _She turned to depart but only made it to the doorstep when the seer's voice halted her._

" _When you go west...and you will go west," he said steadily. "You will come across winter and summer, both are princes of the year. Life is dormant in the winter, evidence is hidden but it only takes a change in the wind for spring to come. Life grows in the summer, small saplings that were once just seeds become what they were fated to be. And then there is a bountiful harvest and the fates are hungry."_

 _Thyra frowned. "You speak nonsense," she stated firmly. "I know my place in this world and I will stay there until the day I die."_

 _She continued to walk outside the doorway but not before she heard his dying words._

" _An ash seedling may look like a blade of grass when first pushing through the earth. But it is still an ash tree, there is no changing what it is. You're an ash Thyra, not a blade of grass."_

 _Thyra grasped at her forearm where the black lines inked across her skin formed the very same type of tree. Gritting her teeth she continued to make her way back down the mountain. She had been foolish to hope that the blind man would help her. Today had been a waste, there was a civil war taking place amongst her people and she was wasting time playing nonsensical riddle games with a man who spent more time in a dream trance than in the reality of the world._

 _Try as she did, the seer's words were never forgotten. They haunted her for years and for awhile she was able to deal with it because she did not fear what was not directly before her. However that changed the day the impossible happened._

 _She went west._

As her mind concluded its journey into her memories, Thyra blinked. Her eyesight which had gone blurry in her state of remembrance, cleared. And as the memory faded, a pair of bright blue orbs surrounded by a golden mane came into her vision. Fili stared back at her, looking at her expectantly with a softness about his face that was still unfamiliar to having directed at her.

While unfamiliar, the expression was quickly becoming a favorite as it was a much preferred contrast to his usual pinched looks of distrust and dislike. The latter was a look she had been determined to ensure always remained directed towards her. But as time went on and the more she had observed and interacted with him, she had found it more difficult to provoke. Not because she couldn't but because she didn't want it. She had grown fond of their talks, grown fond their games. She had grown fond of _him_.

But with his single, innocent question, Thyra was rudely awakened to what she had allowed to happen over the last few months. She mentally swore at herself as she gave herself a private chastisement within the confines of her mind. She had known better. From the first time she had seen him she had known.

He was the one that would ensure her curse.

When the blind man told her she would come to the west she had scoffed. Like all her people, she was a believer in prophetic gifts and superstitious. However, stubbornness can do many things to a person. She had become a believer in making her own fate. Or at least she believed she could avoid the fate bestowed upon her. Unfortunately, things had not turned out as well as she hoped the first time she had denied fate to fall into place. However, when the blind seer told her the west was where her fate would find her again, she couldn't help but hope she could outwit fate.

She would not go west.

It seemed a simple and easy solution. Her people did not go to the west anymore. Yet, two years later when she found herself with a path leading to it, she found herself fearing the dreaded words of the seer.

Her fear turned to horror when she found herself presented with a literal prince as one of the companions she had spent the majority of her time during her years in the west. It was then that she realized that fate was far more stealthy than she predicted, and no matter how keen her eyes were, she would never be able to hide from it.

She had determined Thrade was the winter prince long ago. With his pale skin, dark hair, and icy blue eyes, he was the epitome of winter. Winter was the dormant season. The time just before spring when everything bloomed. With Thrade being a prince of a fallen kingdom that still had loyal subjects that awaited a ruler, it was easy to interpret that Thrade truly was the winter prince the seer had told her of. So she had become cautious with Thrade, keeping him at a distance. For a time she found peace with it, until the night of the first encounter.

The moment Thyra lay her eyes upon Fili, she had known who he was. Before his lineage as well as status as heir was revealed to her, she knew him to be the summer prince. She had felt the pull, like a magnetic force she was drawn to him. For this reason she had done everything in her power to keep herself distant. But the force was strong and she was fearful that her willpower would not be enough. So she had done everything in her power to make sure that it was not just her efforts, but Fili's as well.

From the start he seemed to hate her, but the way he watched her held too much curiosity and not enough hatred. She had seen it in his eyes, the dislike was just a mask whether he knew it or not. This observation fueled her actions to instill that hatred and it was obvious by Fili's question that he had noticed he was singled out above others.

Thyra did not share much of her life back at home because she knew these westerners would not understand it. Like she struggled to understand all of their customs and ways, her culture seemed even harder for them to grasp. But there was one exception to this. Fili's life was far more similar than she cared to admit. Fili was the first she believed could fully understand her home life if given the chance. But there was danger in that truth.

Thyra stared into his face, her eyes roving across his handsome features that she had always had difficulty ignoring. She assumed her expression must have looked quite disturbing for no longer did his face hold the eased softness, but instead wrinkled in concern.

Thyra hated it because it made her dread the actions she was about to enact. However, she had done much more difficult things. Although it surprised her how much more the hurt within her chest seemed to be this time.

With a deep breath, she let her body straighten into her usual guarded stance as she collected her drawing journal from the space between them and slowly rose to her feet. From the corner of her eye, she watched him follow her movements with confusion.

Refusing to look at him still she lingered for a moment. "I'm done," she said in a flat tone that held no emotion. "I go to bed, you should too."

As her feet carried herself away, she made her way to the ladder and descended down to the ground, careful to keep her eyes averted from his silhouette as she climbed down.

As she lay down to rest, she kept her eyes shut tightly as she mentally went through the actions that she would need to take in order to undo what had developed over the course of the past few weeks. The first would be to keep her distance, at least to the best of her ability. The second would be to keep from a drastic change. She would not let things go back to what they once were as they caused problems for Thorin. Asha had promised Thorin she and Sigurd would not be a burden, therefore she would not let things escalate as they had. She also knew that Fili would question the sudden change, a side effect to their companionable relationship. Therefore, if she could not distance herself physically or push him to hate her, she would do it in other ways. She had done it once with Thrade, she could do it again.

 **Yikes its been a** **while! I kind of gave up on this story for awhile because I was not getting any feedback and wasn't sure people were reading. But it kept bothering me so I decided to pick it back up. I think once I get through Beorn I will be able to get rolling again. Please let me know how you are feeling. We finally got some Thyra perspective, is this something you want to see more of? This had turned into a Fili/Thyra dominant story but there will still be the other couples here and there. Let me know if you want to see more of one or the other pairings more often.**


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: The Bear Encounter: Part II

The morning began with the familiar sounds of bickering and debating as to what to do. They had all slept soundly, with the presence of safety and a roof over their head. But with the return of the sun in the morning sky, came also the owner of the house in which they were currently residing.

"There is no point in arguing," Gandalf interjected as the debate of to go out the back door or stand and fight was being discussed. "We cannot pass through the wilderness without Beorn's help. We would be hunted down before we would even get to the Mirkwood." He began to make his way towards the door. "This will require a delicate hand. We must tread very carefully, the last person to startle him was torn to shreds."

He paused by the open door and looked around at them all. The rest of the group looked around at each other, exchanging looks of worry and stress. The chopping of an axe splitting wood sounded, startling them all.

"Now, Bilbo you come with me," he beckoned with a finger.

There was a pause as Bilbo looked around for a reason to counter Gandalf's call. "Ah...i一is this a good idea?" he questioned.

"Yes," Gandalf assured. "Now the rest of you, wait here. And don't come out until I give the signal," he added.

"Right," agreed Bofur as he vigorously nodded his head from where he was perched near the window, "wait for the signal."

Gandalf began to turn to leave but stopped himself. "No sudden movements or loud noises," he warned. "Only come out in pairs," he emphasized.

The group all began to nod in understanding as they each paired off. Gandalf grabbed Bilbo's shoulder and began to lead him out the door.

"Oh, correction Bomber," he paused at the threshold. "You count as two so you go out alone." Bombur who was busy nibbling on a carrot nodded and Gandalf gave another warning to wait for the signal.

"What signal would that be?" Bofur asked aloud just as Gandalf disappeared outside with a nervous looking group all looked around as if waiting for someone to have and answer. All they came up with were shrugged shoulders and blank faces.

* * *

 **Gandalf watched with dismay as the dwarves in which he had just given specific instructions to wait on his signal seemed to pour from the house. He had just barely begun to ease into the fact that the duo, of himself and Bilbo, were in fact accompanied by a few more before they started to come out two by two. The rate in which they walked out in pairs was nothing like treading lightly as they stumbled and rushed out with hasty greetings. It was the very opposite of delicate handling.**

"Dori."

"And Ori."

"At your service," the pair said together after their introductions.

"I don't want your service," growled Beorn in agitation as the pair moved the count up from six to eight.

"Absolutely understandable," Gandalf quickly said with a raised hand in an attempt to smooth things over.

Unfortunately any progress he hoped to gain was interrupted by the appearance of Fili and Kili. Who he had just listed their names before another four came stumbling out of the house onto the stairs.

"Oh yes, and Nori, Bofur, Bifur and Bombur," he added, doing his best to keep everything seem like casual introduction.

Beorn gave him a hard stare. "Is that it?" he inquired with his quiet tone. "Are there any more?"

Gandalf let out a sigh and turned back around. Out stepped a timid looking Sigurd with a cautious looking Thyra by her side. Thyra looked hesitantly at Beorn before stepping down the stairs, bringing Sigurd along with her. Together they gave a small bow before stepping backwards to melt in with the rest of the group.

"Sigurd and Thyra are so new to our company that I quite forgotten they are with us," Gandalf said, hoping their feminie features and Thyra's small stature would help ease their addition to the numbers.

Beorn gave a grunt as his beady black eyes roved over the small maidens. His attention lingered slightly longer on Thyra as he took in the identifying tattoos exposed on her bare arms before becoming distracted as the last and final member made his appearance. Thorin walked out silently, locking eyes with Beorn, who seemed to know exactly who he was without introduction.

* * *

"So you are the one they call Oakenshield," commented Beorn as he walked around the large table filling cups of fresh milk that were too large for any of the drinkers. "Tell me, why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?"

"You know of Azog?" Thorin asked in a quiet tone. "How?"

"My people were the first to live in the mountains, before the Orcs came down from the north. The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved." Beorn gripped the pitcher he held in suppressed anger. The broken shackles that were still secured around his wrist let out a slight clinking, drawing the attention of everyone present. "Not for work, you understand, but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."

He finished filling the last tankard of milk for Ori and took a seat in the large chair at the corner of the table, his dark eyes settling on Thyra and her wrist.

"I do not know much of your people," he commented. "But I know the signs of slavery. I have never seen a dwarf of your kind, are you a last as well?"

Everyone's attention fell to the small dwarrowmaid who was seated between Dwalin and Sigurd. At the sudden attention she seemed to cringe away from their stares, her right hand wrapping around her left wrist self consciously, though the action was futile. By this time in their journey, every member of the company had seen the branding that adorned the inner side of her wrist. And while secretive was her nature, the small facts and pieces she had shared with them had been traded and exchanged like currency in a bustling marketplace.

There was a delay in action as Thyra's eyes moved about but eventually she gave her head a shake.

"Then you are free?"

This time Thyra gave no answer. Instead her eyes fell down to the table.

Beorn let out a disturbed hum but did not question her any further. His eyes flicked to Gandalf who sat in the corner smoking his pipe. "You need to reach your mountain before the last days of autumn."

"Before Durin's day," Gandalf clarified. "Which is why we must travel through the Mirkwood."

"A darkness lies upon that forest. Fell things creep beneath those trees. Strange creatures that do not belong to these lands. They came from the south and the east and have infected and invaded." His eyes darted again to Thyra, this time more of accusation than sympathy. "There is an alliance between the orcs and the Necromancer of Dol Guldur. I would not venture there except in great need."

"We will take the elvin road," Gandalf assured. "Their path is still safe."

"Safe?' Beorn challenged. "The wood elves of Mirkwood are not like their kin. They are less wise, and more dangerous. But it matters not…"

Thorin, who had begun to slowly pace, turned around to look at Beorn. "What do you mean?" he asked, his tone doused in worry.

"These lands are crawling with orcs. Their numbers are growing and you are on foot, you will never reach the forest alive." Thorin was set with unease at his words and Beorn stood up before he continued, walking towards the table. "I don't like dwarves. They're greedy and blind to those they deemed lesser than their own." He reached down and gently picked up a small mouse Dwalin had batted away without a caring thought. His large hands held the small creature gently as he looked down at it, causing a pause before he continued. "But orcs I hate more…: he looked back up, "what do you need?"

* * *

It was decided they would stay one more night before making a mad dash for the Mirkwood. After the agreeance of Beorn's help and the plan of action and necessary items to achieve the journey, the company all dispersed to venture around Beorn's home, taking care to not venture too far from the safe proximity that came with Beorn's protected territory.

In a small orchard, Kili found Sigurd wandering around the fruit laden trees as she collected sap in a small jar to add to her medicinal collection. Watching her lazily meander through the trees with the warm sun bringing out the lighter highlights in her dark hair felt strange. It was such a contrasting change to the high adrenaline weeks they had experienced for the past month.

Despite the rushed pace and high level of danger they were in the past weeks, Kili had pondered long and hard about the advice Thyra had given him. He had yet to put forth any action in clarifying his feelings to Sigurd for many reasons, the biggest one being that the dire situation they were in had been an astronomically inappropriate setting for such things. However, now that things seemed safe at the moment, Kili found himself still unable due to his second biggest reason, his lack of confidence.

He was just about to turn around and leave when Sigurd's head turned and she gave him a welcoming smile when she spotted him. Once he witnessed her face brighten there was no turning around or ignoring the invitation. Like metal to a magnet, he was drawn to her and before he knew it, he was striding along next to her.

"This seems so strange," she commented. "I feel as though we should be on high alert and not strolling through an orchard. I feel as though an orc will jump out at any moment."

Kili nodded in agreement having had the very same thoughts just a few moments ago.

"Aye, but you shouldn't fear too much. Any orc that thought of coming near here would lose poorly to Beorn," he commented to which she nodded in agreement. He watched her approach a tree and scrape off the sticky sap that was weeping from its trunk. "What are you doing?"

"Tree sap is good for preventing infection," Sigurd answered.

He watched her technique for a moment, before offering to help. An offer in which she gratefully accepted. "You are a good man," she commented as she handed him a vial in which to collect the sap. "You will make some dwarrowmaid very happy indeed someday."

Kili looked at her as she gave him a soft smile. Immediately, Kili knew that this was the moment he had been waiting for. If he let it pass by without saying something now, he knew that this is what she would always and only ever see in him. A good man, but for another woman.

"Siggy," Kili began. "I think...there is something I have been…"

His words failed him as he tried to form his feelings into sentences. He looked up from where he fidgeted with the bottle she had handed him. Her blue eyes looked bright in contrast to her dark hair. It had gotten longer since he had first met her. Now it easily reached past her shoulders, just long enough for Thyra to secure two tight braids for her. After being welcomed as guests and not intruders to his home, the two maidens took the opportunity to utilize the privacy of the bathing room that Beorn offered them.

While Thyra had managed to get all of her hair secured when it was still wet, as the morning had progressed and it dried, several strands had fallen free from the tight weave the Régínn had managed to braid for her. The wisps that had escaped the weave had now fallen into her face. To her they seemed to go unnoticed but to Kili...they danced and tantalized him. It was as if they were asking to be pushed away.

Without a thought his hand had already moved up and tucked them behind her ear. The action caused her icy blue eyes to look up at him in surprise. His fingers lingered in her hair as his thumb absentmindedly brushed the side of her cheek. A pink hue seemed to bloom from where the tip of his thumb rested at the apple of her cheek, and from there it spread until she had a light dusting that crossed the bridge of her nose to her other cheek to make a symmetrical blush. Kili made the mistake of looking down at her mouth and after seeing the plump pucker of her lips, there was no more thinking. There was no more second thoughts or fear of rejection.

He just moved.

It was over faster than it began. But as Kili pulled away from the light peck he had placed on her lips, he knew that he had gotten his point across. There was no misunderstanding in her eyes as she looked back at him.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Forgive me for not asking first but I wasn't sure how to explain how I feel. I guess I just unconsciously took Thyra's advice," he admitted with a bashful smile and looked down at the small space that separated them. "But you can't blame me, you said yourself that her advice was something to be sought out."

He felt her head slowly move and he looked up to see her dazedly nodding. With his hand still holding her face, he kept his eyes locked with her as he spoke.

"I don't expect you to reciprocate. But I want to make my intentions clear," he said, emboldened by the rush of the feel of her lips against his. "I like you Siggy. I want to be more than just a friend. I know that your feelings reside with Thrade, but I would like you to at least consider me as an alternative. I don't expect you to give me an answer now, in fact I would rather you not. Give me a fair chance. If not now at least later, when all of this is done, and I might be able to properly court you. But until then at least give me the consideration."

With that said, Kili quickly and abruptly left her. Leaving Sigurd to stand alone in the orchard and staring after him. Still dazed from the sudden awakening, she did not notice her arm move until she felt her fingers touch her lips and trace where his lips met hers.

It had been brief and chaste. More of a brushing of lips to lips than even a full peck. It was not the lustful passion that Sigurd had always imagined her first kiss to be, but despite this, there was no disappointment.

It had been sweet.

She had always dreamt of her first kiss coming from Thrade. Her heart had always been solely for him. At least that is what she always had thought. But as she slowly regained the ability of self awareness, she noticed the rapid beating within her chest. She smiled against her fingers as they still remained on her lips. It was nothing she had asked for. The kiss, her _first_ kiss, had been stolen. But she would be lying if she said she did not enjoy the sensation.

* * *

Fili watched as his brother quickly walk away from Sigurd. His face was beet red but the tall and confident way in which he carried himself made him proud. He had watched the entire thing happen from his hidden nook of the orchard. He had cringed when Kili had seemingly taken Thyra's advice and kissed Sigurd, but when he saw the faint smile come to her lips, he could not help but think that maybe Thyra had steered his brother in the right.

The light rustle of grass caused him to turn around and spot Thyra standing not far behind. Seemingly, she too had observed what he had just witnessed. The sound had been nothing more than what the wind would cause, something that most people would have given no regard. But over the weeks with his prolonged exposure to Thyra, Fili had slowly begun to pick up on her approach. While he had first thought she was soundless, he now realized she only blended herself with the natural sounds. He was still taken off guard far more than readily anticipating her approaches but he was improving.

"I suppose I was wrong about your advice," Fili said. "I apologize, maybe I should not have been so defensive when you were just trying to help my brother."

Her attention only flashed to him before quickly moving back to where Sigurd was recovering from her shock. She stood with her arms folded and feet set wide as she took on a straight backed stance.

"I not accept as there is no need to apologize," she said, her eyes still staying planted on Sigurd. "You were protecting your brother, never apologize for that. And my intentions were made without your brother in my regards. I was looking out for Sigurd, not Kili. Therefore you do not apologize."

Fili nodded without thought then slowed when he realized what he was doing. He was accepting her, although crass and what others would interpret as rude, logic. He could not help but find a small glimmer of humor. Not too long ago he would have taken personal offense but now he unquestioningly accepted it, accepted her.

Thinking of her earlier comments, a question came to his mind. "Does Sigurd remind you of your sister back home?"

For the first time since they started talking, Thyra finally fully looked at him. "Sister?" she asked, her head tilting. "I don't…" she trailed off, her head shaking, not understanding his meaning.

"Sorry I just assumed," Fili quickly said, hoping to clear away the frown that was beginning to pull at her lips. Ever since he had learned she was self conscious about her lack of skill in the language, he did his best to always make sure he phrased things as clearly as possible. "I know you have siblings and with the way you seem to treat Sigurd like your sister...I just assumed she reminded you of one back home."

He trailed off when Thyra seemed to relax slightly and understanding came to her eyes.

"No sisters," she replied, looking back to the spot were Sigurd and Kili had been earlier.

It grew quiet when Fili was unsure as to how to reply. Both Kili and Sigurd had left long ago yet Thyra was focused on the spot as if the pair were still there. From the corner of his eye, Fili watched her. She had been acting weird all morning. While it was not abnormal that Thyra ignored him, it had been a long time since she had seemed to intentionally ignore him.

"I have brothers," Thrya suddenly said, "four of them."

"Where you close with them?" Fili asked.

She shook her head. "No. I left home when I was young, to go live with my grandfather. Two were born after I left, but they were all strangers to me at my return."

"You did not reconnect with the older ones when you came back? Or try to get to know the two younger ones better?"

There was a long pause. "When I came back things were different. Too many things had changed," she answered vaguely. "I did things they disapproved of but had no understanding of. In the end, only my oldest brother knew the reason for my actions. Or at least some of them. But even so, there were things that kept a rift between us."

"What kind of things?"

As if just realizing she was having a conversation with another person, Thyra jerked her attention back to him from the spot she had been spacing out. She looked at him like she was noticing him for the first time.

"I have things to do," she said quickly, unfolding her arms as began to walk away at a vigorous pace.

Fili watched after her, at a loss as to why she was suddenly acting cold to him. She had been acting this way for some time now. Last night he had thought he rectified that. Their conversations, her letting him look at her notebook, the continuation of the game, it had all been back to normal. That is until her abrupt departure, as she had down just now.

He didn't like it. Before it would annoy and make him angry but he would get over it. But now...it was beginning to hurt.

* * *

"Orcs making alliances with necromancers, armies of growing numbers, goblins and orcs working in collaboration," Gandalf listed, then looked to Beorn. "What do you know of the necromancer in Dol Guldor?"

Beorn shook his head. "Only that the orcs that swarm these lands answer to him," he replied as he gave Gandalf a curious look. "Why do you ask?"

A stream of smoke escaped Gandalf's lips as he exhaled, the tip of his pipe resting against his bottom lip in thought. "Because Radagast found a morgul blade."

A disturbed look came over Beorn's face. He and Beorn has been discussing the ills of the changing world. With them sat Thorin who was also participating with the discussion as a handful of others within the company were spread out the room doing menial task and doing their best to eavesdrop incognito.

Among them sat Thyra who as usual sat mutely as she went about tending to her sword silently. Next to her was Thrade who looked bothered, occasionally sending off looks between her and Fili who sat across from them. Fili himself was oddly quiet, every once in awhile casting his eyes towards the Régínn with a strained expression as he and Kili packed rations.

"What kind of morgul blade," Beorn asked after a long pause.

"One that should have been buried deep beneath within the High Fells of Rhudaur where none could ever find it," Gandalf answered cryptically. "When I went to go there, the crypts had been broken open from the inside. I worry about the true identity of this necromancer you speak of."

Silence fell upon them then Thorin spoke up. "Will this affect the reclaiming of Erebor?"

"Most definitely," came Gandalf's quick reply. "And even far after you have claimed it. There is something stirring."

Thorin nodded, a deep frown crossing his lips. "Asha said the same thing. She thinks that there is no coincidence between the fall of Erebor and Dhom. She also mentioned that she has suspicions that whatever happened to Thyra's people are connected as well."

At this mention all eyes went to Thyra who stilled under their attention but did not look up. After a short pause she went back to polishing the already prestige blade she had in her lap.

With no comment from Thyra, Gandalf looked to Thorin, drawing the attention of the majority while a few continued to look at Thyra. "What does Asha know of the events of the east?"

Thorin shook his head. "Nothing much. She assumed the King that was in power when her people were still trading with them is no more."

"That would have been King Tyr if I remember. I don't remember who his predecessor was to be," Gandalf commented.

"Hymir," came a quiet reply of Thyra. "King Hymir came next...King Tyr's second son. But he is no more. Aelle, his older brother, reigns now.."

Thorin's brow creased. "A first born took over for a second born?" He asked in confusion.

When Thyra gave no reply, Gandalf clarified the oddity. "The Régínn do not choose their predecessors in the conventional way that most monarchy do."

Thorin nodded. "It is my impression that someone has enslaved them."

Gandalf took in a deep drag from his pipe. "If that is true, and Asha is correct in thinking these attacks on the kingdoms are connected and not coincidence, then I fear your enemies far more powerful than I thought. The Régínn are not the type to be so easily enslaved."

Both Thorin and Gandalf looked to where Thyra was sitting. She was still wiping her blade with a polishing cloth, the polishing ointment long rubbed in and her work now turned to idle preoccupation.

"Thyra," Gandalf called, causing her to still. "What can you tell us of the enemy of your people?"

She looked up from her work. Her lips pressed firmly together and her dark eyes closed off. There was no need for her to open her mouth to voice the denial of the request. For a moment a small anger rose within Thorin. He knew it was not right but he was desperate, he needed to know what he would be facing in the future.

"Thyra," Thorin called, bringing her attention to himself and he looked at her pleadingly, unsure of how to handle her. Asha had told him she was secretive but she had also told him she would be an asset and help in anyway she could. "Please, this is vital for the possible outcome of this quest."

For a moment he thought she would remain tight lipped but after a long moment she nodded her head. "What is it you wish to know?"

Thorin looked at Gandalf, unsure of where to begin. "How is it that you people came to be enslaved?" Gandalf started with.

"We are not slaves in the traditional context," she answered. "But we are ruled by a king who is ruled by another. We fight and conquer for our King's master."

"And your people are okay with this?"

"Some do it willingly," she responded. "Others do it only as loyalty to their king, while others…they have chosen to go against what some deem disloyal to the crown. But they do not see it as a rebellion as they do not believe Aelle to be the rightful king, therefore this is no disgrace in their disloyalty and disobedience."

"Why not?"

Thyra let out a long sigh, her shoulders lifting high before she let out her exhale. With deliberate care, she sheathed her sword and lay it down next to her. It's hilt just a few inches from grabbing, where it always seemed to be.

"Because my people have been divided for quite some time ever since the civil war. Possibly longer."

"Civil war?" Gandalf asked. "I recall no such events in your histories."

"That is because it has not been long enough to become history. It happened in my life time and has still yet to be resolved, despite what Aelle has proclaimed."

"How have we not heard of such news and what happened to cause such things to escalate?"

"My people have never trusted those who are not one of us. It is why they raided and never traded. That is until a king of my people, King Bjorn, ventured out to the lands of the west, seeking out new treasures. It was then that he met the dwarves of Khazad and for the first time, began a market of trade.

"Since then my people have continued to trade with the _**vestur**_ dwarves. But one hundred years ago we stopped. A great storm came and sunk thirty ships that had tried to make the journey west, all ships sunk except for one. Upon that ship was the King's oldest son, Aelle.

"It was a great loss and Aelle demanded it was a bad omen, a sign that we should go back to the old ways of only raiding. King Tyr proclaimed it to be so but his heir and second son Hymir believed differently. When Hymir took the throne he proclaimed that when the first ice melted, they would set sail for the west again.

"But that spring an army from the south west came to our lands and there was no sparring for warriors to set sail. A man by the name of Mordu came from the lands of Mordor." At the name, Gandalf shifted as a disturbed look came to his face but Thyra ignored it as she continued. "Mordu approached King Hymir and offered him a deal. He said he spoke for a great lord from the earlier ages and wanted an alliance. Hymir revoked the deal and ran the army from his lands.

"For forty years king Hymir reigned our people well. He spoke often of sailing west again but things kept happening. Timber for the boats failed to be delivered. Attacks just before departure delayed sailing inevitably. One day, when he went out to investigate such coincidental happenings, there was an ambush and he was killed. His death caused a crack within the unity of my people that fractured when it was time for his heir to ascend."

"How so?" Thorin asked.

"There were disagreements on who would take the throne. Hvitserk, Hymir's eldest son was the bastard son of his wife. Hymir treated him like his own and proclaimed him to be the next in line. But there were discrepancies of his right to the throne because of his blood, despite Hymir's proclamation that he was the heir.

"Because of this, Aelle stepped up and offered himself as king but again there were protests that he was still not the rightful heir. Civil war broke out as my people were broken into factions.

"Aelle sought out aid through Mordu and in the end, his faction won. But Aelle was tricked when he made the deal and we found our nation being ruled by a man who was more puppet than king." Thyra raised her left arm and displayed the branded eye on her forearm. "We do the bidding of what Mordu calls the Eye. Raids were no longer for the benefit of our kingdom but for the sponsorship of the Will of the Eye." She dropped her arm and looked to Gandalf and Thorin. "You speak of a stirring of evil, but it is far from a stirring, it is a monsoon and it is headed to these lands."

Silence overtook them as they processed this new information. An eerie atmosphere, empty of any consolation, hung in the air. Thorin took in every word and rolled it over into his mind until a thought came forward. A thought that reminded him again that Thyra was dangerous. At the moment, not to him, but he was thinking of the future. Thyra had, in short, admitted to working for his enemies. This new found knowledge suddenly made him wary of her presence her in the west.

"And why exactly are you here then? Asha told me they found you among a shipwreck of your slain kinsmen," Thorin said with a guarded tone. "If you are a pawn of the enemy, then I cannot assume anything else than that you are a spy. You said that Aelle did not want to venture west, so are you here under his master's orders? If so, what reason do you have that I should not strike you down here and now."

For anyone else he would not have been so blunt but he knew the girl could handle it. He also knew that he needed to keep the welfare of his future protected. Asha trusted her, but how much did Asha really know. Did Asha only see her as a survivor and refugee? Did Asha not see the potential danger she was entrusting into her inner circle?

His tone had been sharp and his face hardened. To his surprise, Thyra looked uneasy. It was not a reaction he was used to seeing on the girl, but in a blink it was gone. Any earlier fear or concern she might have had, was repressed.

Thyra looked him straight in the eye. A gesture that showed she was openly letting him read her face for any lie.

"As I said, the war has been proclaimed won but there is still a divide, a rebellion," she said steadily. "I was sent to seek aid from Dhom. But when we managed to find it, all was gone. I remembered there were other ports in which we used to trade. So I made the decision to continue to search. However, word had gotten out in my homeland and a party of orcs were sent to hunt us down.

"They caught our ship on fire, forcing us to shore where they had waited for us. Supplies were low and we had already suffered a sickness that had wearied all of us. We were at a disadvantage and it was turned into a slaughter...the next day is when Asha found us. To answer your question directly, no, I am not here to spy. Nor do plan to provide any aid to your enemies that would be advantageous against your people."

She offered nothing more and while Thorin knew there was more, he was willing to let it go. At this moment he was satisfied that Thyra was not a threat to his people or the future of his kingdom. She was just another victim. While he was still disturbed by her earlier information, he had other things to think about, like reclaiming his own home first, then defending it. Then perhaps he could think of others. But it did not escape him how disturbed Gandalf was as he sat silently, with his eyes unfocused, as he meditated to himself.

"What where the discrepancies between the rightful heir?" It was Bilbo who spoke. Curious and ever sharp Bilbo, had found that the story was missing a piece. "You said the heir was chosen not by birth or blood. Then how is it that Hvitserk did not have the right blood? What grounds did Aelle say he was the rightful heir?"

Again all eyes of those present turned to Thyra who looked more tight lipped than ever.

"The tradition of the throne being passed down has never been a birth right but a place earned and deserved," she began hesitantly. "It began at the time where history becomes legend." She looked to Thorin. "Your people had Durin." She looked to Thrade. "And your mother's people had Brimir." She paused for a moment before continuing. "My people had Ragnar."

"He possessed an ability to summon an insurmountable strength. A gift from the gods." Thyra hesitated, her eyes flashing to Fili before she continued. "We call it _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_...blood rage as you would say. Ragnar was a warrior within our people and the king whose name has been lost to us believed that his power was a sign from the gods. The king named Ragnar his heir and he was proclaimed king instantly. From then on, his blood reigned and led the Régínn.

"When it came time for a new reign, the holder of _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ become heir. For generations, the throne was always passed down to the descendent that possessed the ability. A second son, a nephew, a sister, a grandson. It was an unpredictable trait, sometimes it skipped generations, while other generations had many to possess the _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_. In these cases it was the one who possessed the most occurrences of it."

"What do you mean occurrences?" Fili had been the one to ask this question. His voice held something higher than curiosity. Like he was pondering and analyzing something within his mind.

Thyra did not look at him when she answered. "One must call upon _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ in order to use it," Thyra explained. "They must enter a certain state of mind. Once within that mind their senses are heightened. They become stronger and faster than what should be possible. All the while, certain senses become blocked out. They become immune to pain, immune to discomfort. They do not feel the strain of fatigue, therefore they can continue to fight far longer than their enemy. It takes a lot in order to enter such a state, mentally and physically. That is why those who had more recorded accounts of it are considered more worthy.

"The Régínn were obsessed with it, believing that their leaders were gods themselves, therefore making our people blessed. But as time went on the _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ became less and less. For a while my people resorted to incest in hopes to preserve the ability but a time came that the king came upon his death bed and there was no _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ to take up the throne. So he chose his third son who had proven himself the best leader of his siblings. From then on, that was how it was then done for a half millennia.

"The Régínn have never questioned the decision of our King's since then and the _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ soon became a myth. That is until it manifested within a young girl during the King Hymir's reign. When word got out that there was one who possessed the _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð,**_ it caused a disruption within my people. People called for the girl to be crowned immediately and there was a shift amongst the people. She was nine years old...far too young to lead a people and the king knew this. Worried that someone would take advantage of her, as she was still a child and had a lack of knowledge in politics, she was sent away to live in a quiet village that did not know of her. It was for her safety, but most of all, it was for the balance of the people.

"With time, people settled down and accepted Hymir's decision to keep Hvitserk as his heir. Hvitserk had proven himself a formidable warrior in the raids he had led. As well as defending our Kingdom against the men from the south west.

"But when Hymir died in the ambush that ended his life, acceptance of his decisions were questioned with his absence. Aelle was the only survivor of the ambush that was more of a slaughter than an attack. When he came back, he claimed he had been possessed by _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ in order to survive. And it was not the only claim he made," she said stonley. "He also proclaimed himself the rightful heir to the throne. He claimed the gods chose him just as Ragnar was chosen.

"His words brought contention amongst my people. Those who still believed the _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ was to rule them supported Aelle. Those who believed the old ways dead and still felt loyalty to the deceased Hymir, supported Hvitserk. And then there was a third group. Ironically, Aelle's words, while they played to his advantage, also backfired on him. With his talks of the return of _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð,**_ it brought back memories of the young girl and again my people were split apart. Thus began the civil war."

Her dark eyes flashed to Fili almost nervously. They lingered on him, reading him closely, as if watching and waiting for a reaction. The action did not go unnoticed.

Fili had listened intently to Thyra's words, all the while, in the back of his mind, he tried to piece everything together. Today was not the first time he had heard Thyra speak of the _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_.

Most of the time when she spoke in her mother tongue it only sounded like gibberish to him. He could never decipher where a word ended and another began. However, last night it had been simple enough that his mind was able to process and remember it. It had taken him a moment when she had first said it but eventually he had recognized it from the previous night. Now, as he caught her nervous glances, he began to recall everything she had told him in the last twenty-four hours.

His eyes shot to her arm where the vein like tattoo was inked to her inner arm. Thyra had told him the meaning of that tattoo. She had said it meant _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_.

Suddenly everything that she was saying locked into place, the reality of what her words meant. He remembered Thyra speaking how she went to live with her grandfather when she was young. And when she came back, things were different. According to what she had just said, there were only two people who possessed _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ , the young girl and the current king. There was another detail she had said, the _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ was from those who descended from a royal bloodline.

He was hit with a question. If the _**R**_ _ **eiði blóð**_ came from the royal line and Thyra possessed it, did that make her part of the royal line? If so, just how close to the line was she?

His eyes bugged at his revelations and wonderments. Immediately he looked up to find that Thyra was already staring back at him. His mouth opened as he took in a deep breath to blurt out the very same questions that his mind had just formed. However the words stopped in his mouth when he saw the dark look that she was giving him.

His blood chilled. Never had he seen her look quite as unnerving as she did now. Slowly, and very slightly, she shook her head from side to side in warning.

He found his brow furrowing but found himself closing his lips and nodding his head in the smallest of acquiesce. Immediately her face softened and she seemed to almost look grateful. However Fíli was not about to let it go completely. He gave his own silent look of demand that told her that he would expect an answer. She did not seem happy about it as she kept her eyes locked on him.

Fili did not back down and he held her gaze until it was she, not he, who broke contact. Fili grinned to himself in victory. Though it did not last long as his moved back to what exactly he was keeping silent about, at least for the time being.

When he had first met her, all she ever seemed to say to him was how ill fit he was to be a king. He had thought her speaking from observance, but now, he was not so sure if it was out of experience more so than observance. If so, why was she not sympathetic to his situation as an heir. If what he believed was true, he thought she would understand. Then again, there wasn't any discrepancies to him being heir. In his world, the crown was passed down to the oldest and closest male relative. Fili was the closest male relation to Thorin. So perhaps their situations were not so similar. But despite this, Fili wanted answers. And he was determined to get them.

 **Yikes that was a lot of back ground and next chapter will have more but then we are moving on to the Mirkwood which I am excited about. Thank you all to those who** **favorited** **and followed as well as to those who went the extra mile to let me know your thoughts. I am certainly** **recommitted** **to finishing this story and appreciate all of you who love it!**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The Bear Encounter: Part III

When the sun went down they all found themselves gathered in Beorn's home near the hearth. Having spent the day around him and none of them had been torn apart, the company had eased more around the shapeshifter, enough to spend the evening with their instruments out and taking to the dance floor every so often when a particular tune struck up.

Fílí was watching his brother happily bound around the room with Sigurd in his arms. It seemed the earlier events had altered something within Kili, making him more confident. While pleased, Fili was still wary of if and when the time would come that his brothers heart would be crushed. While Sigurd had certainly been less attached or attemptive in catching Thrade's eye for a dance, Fili was wise enough to know her feelings would not disappear so easily.

His eyes left the dancing duo and roved over to where Thyra sat sulking in the corner. Fili frowned at the sight of her. She had been like this all day. Sulking and avoiding. Every time he had tried to approach her and talk to her, she suddenly became too preoccupied to hear him or in most cases, just walked away.

And he was tired of it.

Before he would have brushed it off or not cared. She had no obligations to him when they first met but things had changed. He had been denying it for a while. But the more thought he gave, the more he realized, they were friends. It was certainly not a conventional friendship. But in some odd and construed way, he found himself caring about the bond they had formed.

Over the past week she had made efforts to ignore him, as if she were angry at him. But for the life of him, he could not think as to what he could have done. Last night, in the loft, he had thought perhaps she had gotten over it. But then she had ended things abruptly and since the morning rise of the sun, she had only spared him a few words in the orchard.

As if she sensed his staring, Thyra's eyes moved up and locked with his. Before she could manage to look away, Fili decided he had enough of this, he wanted answers.

Flicking his head towards the door, he gave a silent command for her to follow. Not bothering to check if she did so, Fili made his way to the door and quietly slipped out into the night air. As soon as the heavy door shut behind him he made his way down the stairs and stood at the bottom.

His head tilted back to look up at the stars as he listened to the muffled tune that Bofur was plucking away on his fiddle. The sound of the metal latch clinked and scraped as the sound of the door being opened echoed behind him. For a fraction of a second the music rang out clear again before the small thud of the door closing muffled it again.

He didn't turn around until she spoke.

"What you want?" Thyra's voice sounded, her words thickly accented. It was something Fili noticed when she was feeling particularly bothered or annoyed.

He turned around to find her standing at the top of the stairs looking down at him with her arms crossed and frown pulling at her lips. "I want answers," he demanded. "No games, no trading, just the honest truth about you."

She frowned impossibly deeper at his words. "I don't owe you anything," she snapped back, her eyes narrowing and looking darker.

She turned to leave but Fili stopped her with his next words. "If you don't want everyone in that house to find out you're an heir to the Régínn throne you will."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Careful _Feelig_ ," she said very slowly, enunciating each word. "Blackmail is usually not the trait of a _good_ king."

She had resorted back to her old ways, attacking his weaknesses and insecurities. Even the nickname had its original condescending tone to it. He was sure he had still yet to hear her utter his true name. Over the softening of their interactions he had grown used to it, even fond of it. But not when she used it in that tone. However, despite the tone and the low blow to his already low self esteem of being a good ruler, Fili had his own counter attack.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm not King...not yet. That's what you said right?" She didn't say anything in reply. "You know you have some mighty bold words for a hypocrite," Fili fired back, folding his own arms and taking a wide stance.

Instantly her face darkened and he knew he had struck a nerve. He had learned that honor, truth, and loyalty was what mattered most for her people. Without it, they were nothing.

"And what have I done to earn an accusation of hypocrisy?"

He let out a scoff. "For one who preaches about duty and honor you sure failed in your own as an heir."

Her jaw tightened as she bared her teeth. "I am _not_ the heir. I never was nor will I ever be."

"From everything I just heard in there-" he nodded his head to the structure where a slow ballad was being struck up on Thorin's harp- "sounds to me you have a responsibility."

She was down the stairs in a heartbeat with her hands grasped around his shirt. "You don't understand," she hissed.

"Then explain it to me," Fili said, lowering his head toward her as he meet her eyes in a challenge. "Help me know that you are not a threat to us and I won't say anything."

He watched her pull her lower lip in with her teeth and chew on it thoughtfully. She released it and clicked her tongue. She looked around, first to the door behind and then to the small wood shed at the side of the barn home.

"Fine, but not here," she consented, grabbing his wrist and dragging him towards the shed.

The strong scent of freshly chopped pine filled his nostrils as they reached the wood shed. She pulled him into the darkness. Only a few silver beams of light managed to slip through the cracks and holes of the roof and siding of the shabby shed. Half of her face was masked with darkness while the other was bathed in a beam of moonlight.

"What must you know?" She demanded, folding her arms against her chest. Fili heard the clink of her sword as it shifted against her back with the movement and wondered if she went anywhere without it.

He pointed to her left arm. "You said your tattoo represented the blood rage." She loosened her arm to look at it, the dark lines looking like sickly poisoned veins beneath her skin in the dim light. "Does that mean you possess it?"

He watched her jaw clench before she answered without looking up. "Yes."

"In order to have it you are descended from Ragnar...the royal family." She nodded her head, still not looking at him. "How directly are you related to the royal family?"

There was a long pause as everything stilled. "Hymir was my father."

Fili blanked. While he had his suspicions, hearing it confirmed was baffling. Thyra was a princess.

"So Hvitserk and Aelle—"

"My half brother and my uncle."

He fell silent for a moment. "You were the girl...weren't you. The girl your people wanted to be crowned."

Thyra looked down at her arm and traced the largest vein of the tattoo. "There was an assassin one night. They had been sent to kill Hvitserk but entered the wrong room and instead attacked me...I don't remember much. But there was a point in which I remember closing my eyes, ready to give up when it suddenly took over."

"It being the blood rage?"

Thyra nodded and looked up at him. "I ripped the man's jaw off...I was nine years old, far smaller than most and I ripped half a man's face off."

Fili flinched at the gruesome image his mind painted for him. He had seen many violent things in his life. There was no avoiding it when you lived in a world that had to be defended from constant goblin and orc raids. But there was something extra disturbing about the image of a young Thyra standing and clutching a bloody handful of flesh and bone. It explained a lot about her character.

Fili swallowed thickly. "What happened then?"

"A chambermaid found me, having heard my cries. My father tried to keep her silent but the rumors spread like wildfire. Questions arose as to if the choice in heir would be changed but my father stayed firm, not willing to break his word to my half brother that he would be heir.

"My people have always been unified by one thing, the will of the gods. Since the time Ragnar was passed the crown, the choice in leadership has never been questioned. Even when the blood rage became extinct, that trust and loyalty was ingrained and passed down for generations. But then the blood rage manifested and for the first time in their existence, my people questioned who should be king.

"My father had always been a firm and confident ruler...until then. He was worried and unsure of what to do. So I was sent to live with my mother's father. He was a fisherman on the outskirts of our lands. He lived in a secluded area where it took so long for news to travel to them it was old enough to be forgotten by the rest of my people. I did not understand why until much later.

"At the time I thought my father was disgusted by me or afraid. And he was disgusted and afraid, but not of me. He was afraid people would take advantage of my power, try to put me on a throne that I was too small for while they pulled the strings of their puppet queen. No one alive had ever seen the power. Most people looked at me with fearful awe. But I remember seeing the hunger in their eyes too. Loyalty, honor, and truth holds a great worth...but power is a hefty commodity as well.

"After several years with my grandfather, things calmed down and I became older, mature enough to understand politics. Or so I thought, I had been gone for nearly two decades. When I came back, things were different. My father had died and my uncle and brother were fighting for the throne."

"Did you?"

She cocked her head to the side. "Did I what?"

"Did you fight for the throne as well? You said yourself that there were people who supported you in taking the throne. You had the power. You had the ri–"

"I did not have the right," she growled out. "Nor do you have the right to know any of this," she said with a sneer. She stepped towards him tilting her head up to stare straight into his eyes. "You are ignorant of what has gone on in a land and people you didn't even know existed but four months ago. You know nothing of me, nothing of what I have done, nothing I have seen-"

"Then talk to me, help me understand!" Fili interrupted. "Tell me full truths, tell me your feelings, your memories. Open up so that maybe I can help you or you can help me. That's what friends do. They give and take from each other! Not walk away and ignore them just because you don't want to share."

"Then maybe that is your mistake!" she snapped back. "I'm not your friend _Feelig_ , I'm your temporary comrade. I don't owe you anything!"

Fili stared at her in disbelief. He hadn't realized how much this so called friendship had meant to him until he felt the stinging bite of her words. Then again, maybe she was right. It was his mistake for thinking they could every be friends. However, that did not stop him from pushing her further.

He let out a tsk. "You know what, you're right," he said with a nod of his head. "That was my mistake, thinking we were friends. But then again, it was never an option really...was it Thyra?"

He paused, waiting for her to contradict the statement or even give some sort of rebuttal. But she said nothing causing his anger to rise.

"Fine then," he spat, throwing his hands in the air before pointing at her. "At least answer me this, why not? Why have you been so determined to keep us from becoming friends? You hated me in the beginning, which was fine-" in truth it was not, but that was beside the point- "but then for a little while we got along and I don't know about you, but it was nice. It was nice having someone to talk to, someone who almost seemed to understand me." He took a step forward, closing the space between them and grabbing onto her shoulders as he bent his head lower, narrowing his eyes in accusation. "But there has always been something wedged between us, something that you put there yourself. So tell me, what are you so afraid of? What is it about me that makes you distance yourself every time I think we are getting a little closer?"

She stared up at him, her chest moving in and out against his own as she breathed heavily. Fili could feel her heart beating within her at the spot where her chest gently pressed against his upper abdomen. Her dark eyes quivered back and forth between his as she stared up at him, mute and seemingly panicked.

"What is going on?" Came a sudden demand from a third party.

Simultaneously, Fili and Thyra turned their heads towards the front of the wood shed. Standing in the doorway was the silhouette of Thrade. Thrade's eyes flickered between the two, taking in their position and close proximity. In the dim light, Fili could make out the territorial expression on his face, as Thrade's attention settled on him.

For a moment Fili was confused by it, until Thyra slightly moved and he realized just how close he was to her. He let his hands fall from her shoulders as he turned his body away from her.

"We were just getting some fresh air," Thyra finally answered, taking Thrade's harden stare away from Fili as he looked to her. Fili looked at her as well and she gave him a side glance, as if asking him to go along with her.

"Yeah," Fili managed to say as he folded his arms, taking almost a defensive stance. "Thought we would make a sweep of the area, make sure things were secure."

From the corner of his eye Fili caught Thyra slightly shake her head. Even as he said it, Fili knew it was an opaque cover up. And it seemed Thrade thought so too.

"So you thought the woodshed was the best vantage point to do that?"

"The transaction between the two of us is none of your concern," Thyra defended.

It was a defense that Fili felt made the situation look even worse. But when he caught her expression, he realized that maybe Thyra was hoping for Thrade to interpret it wrongly. Immediately, Fili looked to Thrade to see his reaction. Hurt and then anger flashed beneath the composed expression he was struggling to hold. Thrade's jaw tightened and flexed as he stared back at Thrya with as his expression tightened in an attempt to keep control.

"Fili," Thrade began, the name sounding almost bitter on his lips as he failed to look at the other male. "Could you please give us a private moment? I would like to speak with Thyra alone if you are through with her," he requested, his eyes never leaving Thyra.

Fili would normally never delay in granting such an entreaty, but something within him caused him to stall. Instead of automatically moving to fulfill Thrade's request, he looked to Thyra, silently asking her if this was what she wanted and offering to remain if it was not. He saw her look at him from the corner of her eye. For a moment she seemed to hesitate and then she nodded, the movement subtle but clear.

It was only then that Fili took a step forward to the doorway, but he stopped when something latched onto his wrist. Fili looked down to see Thyra's small hand grasping him. He looked up to her, questioning if she had changed her mind.

She was still looking at Thrade, but after a moment, she looked up at him and stepped closer. "You don't know much of my people but I am confident you know what the value of keeping one's word means to us," she quietly enough that only he could hear.

Fili nodded.

"Then will you swear to me, under that same commitment, that you will not tell the others?"

Fili did not immediately respond. He was tempted to just walk away, but the urgent, near pleading look in her eyes could not be ignored. He nodded and immediately she relaxed. Before he turned back around, Fili could have sworn he had caught the glimmer of a thankful smile. But the poor lighting made it much too dark to be sure.

When he turned back to face Thrade, the older dwarf was looking down where Thyra was still holding onto him. Fili began to walk forward, Thyra's hand letting him slip free as he made his way out of the darkened shed. Ignoring the heated glare that Thrade flashed him as he brushed past him, Fili exited and made his way back to the barn. His ears strained to hear the conversation that was about to take place as his mind began to wonder just what kind of position he had just placed himself between the pair he had just left.

* * *

Thrade waited until he heard the distinct and sure sound of the door to the main house open and fully close before he said anything. And even after he waited a full minute to speak to be sure he had full control of his voice.

"What's going on between you and Fili," he demanded.

It had been a question that had been creeping into his mind for quite sometime now. His reuniting with Thyra had not gone as well as he hoped. And his first meeting with Fili had been off the wrong foot. When he found out who Fili was he wanted to forget the ill first impression he had with the younger man but it had been harder than he thought. He had no problem liking his brother well enough, though he felt Kili felt differently. Both brothers had been cordial but there was always an underlying distance. Kili he understood why, but Fili was the one that he questioned the most.

Thrade had always thought jealousy was beneath him. It was a petty and undignified emotion. One that he had never experienced until recently. For years Thrade had stood around silently while Thyra played around with those she wished. By no means did he care for any of the handful of lovers Thyra had toyed with, this was a fact. But he had never truly felt envy for them. He still disliked the thought of her with anyone, but it had never gotten under his skin quite as much as her interactions with Fili.

For years he tolerated watching her move from one dwarf to the other, but this time was different. He had never seen her open up so quickly the way she did with Fili. Thrade knew in full detail what kind of relationships Thyra had with past men in the guild. And they were nothing more than a partner in which to find a release. There was no relationship, despite what some of them tried to force. Any time they did this, Thyra would remove them from her small circle of interactions.

While he was certain there was nothing of that kind of physical nature going on between herself and Fili, Thrade could not help but resent the intimacy in which their interactions seemed to hold. For the first time, Thrade felt that he truly had a rival in earning Thyra's actual affections that went beyond just physical intimacy.

He had seen them speaking with each other more and more frequently. Ever since Thorin had forced them to be partners for the night watch and scouting. In his weaker moments, he had nearly gone to Thorin and asked him to partner himself with Thyra, if anything but to separate them. However he resisted. Despite his selfish desires, he was not willing to stoop so low as to resort to petty actions.

"I asked you a question," Thrade reminded when Thyra had yet to give him a response. "What is going on between you two?"

Thyra began to walk towards him. "I believe I already told you. That is none of your business," she said sharply. "I am finished speaking."

She moved to pass by him, not sparing him a glance but Thrade was not about to let this go. He grabbed onto her upper arm, forcing her to face him as they stood in the doorway of the shed.

"Well I am not," Thrade argued, grabbing onto her shoulders and giving her a small shake in frustrations. Her eyes widened and immediately Thrade released her. When she made no move to depart again, he began to pace, running an agitated hand through his hair as her muttered curses of khudzul under his breath. Finally he paused in front of her. "Why?" he blurted out suddenly.

She gave him a confused look. "I do not-"

"Why am I not good enough?" he interrupted, planting his body in front of her as he towered over her. "Why can't you not accept me? Accept what I want to offer you, accept my feelings."

He grabbed her face, one had wrapping around her neck as he pulled her forward. She stumbled towards him as he lowered his head to capture her lips with his. It was forceful and sloppy, a result of the desperation within him. Her lips did not move with his which pushed him to try harder, desperate to receive a response. All he felt though was her body begin to separate from him, an action he was not quite willing to let happen yet. He pulled her closer which caused Thyra to fight harder. With an exerted force, he felt himself being pushed away.

He staggered a few steps before he caught his balance and stared back at her. Her chest heaved and she looked disheveled but it did nothing to soften the look she was giving him. Contempt and fire roared in her face as she glared at him. Her arm rose up as she wiped it roughly across her lips before letting it drop to her side again.

Realizing what he had done, he opened his mouth to try a salvage his poor decorum. "Thyraー" he began in a small hush but she stopped him from speaking further.

"I do not want this," she said, he tone softer than he expected given her expression. "I am sorry Thrade, but I cannot accept what you offer because I do not want it."

Her tone held pity which only made the embarrassment that came with rejection sting even more. That sting of embarrassment quickly transferred into anger. Anger towards her because she could not feel the same way. Anger at the past because at one point this distance was not between them, nor this rejection. Sure he had not fully confessed nor did he know what her stand point was before she knew of his heritage, but there was a time when he was convinced she was at least open to the idea of him being enough. Then finally, his anger landed on the golden prince that had somehow doing what he could not.

The image of how he had found them, Fili's arms holding her, the lack of space between them, and the heated look they were giving each other. It was perhaps nothing, just as they had claimed, but to him it looked like everything he had ever wanted from Thyra. Intimacy and emotion. Something beyond what little social obligation Thyra practiced to acknowledge his existence.

His brow bunched in his anger and he took several steps forward. "What does _he_ have that I don't?" Thrade demanded, his arm extending to point in the direction that Fili had departed to. "Is it because he is a prince with an actual crown in the future?" he asked. "Do you think he is going to help you? Is that what you are aiming for? Lead him on like you do all those other toys you have back in the guild, then use that connection to manipulate him into-"

The resounding sound of her slap echoed far through the night air. The force of her hand causing his face to turn away as his eyes watered from the lingering sharp sting of the strike. Blinking back the tears, he faced her again, only to see her face was construed into one even worse than pity.

Disgust was written all over her face as hot, angry tears welled up into her eyes. Immediately Thrade regretted his words. But before he could say anything remotely apologetic her hand met his face again in another slap of contempt.

"I want nothing to do with crowns, thrones, or princes," she hissed. "I just want to be left alone. I don't need anyone, not Fili, not you, no one. I am here under obligation and service, not to make friends and most certainly not to find courtship."

Thrade opened his mouth to say something, but Thyra was already moving. She pushed past him roughly before stomping away, not in the direction of the farm house but away from the house and away from any others.

She wanted and needed to be alone. She thought she had escaped her fate long ago when she had given up her token for the throne, yet here she was, being chased down by that same fate. Thrade had no throne to take but she would not risk that factor when fate was in play. There was a time that she had possibly accepted Thrade's advances, but in respect to Sigurd she had stalled crossing the line of friendship. A hesitation she was grateful for when she found out about his heritage. After that, all consideration left the table.

And in regards to Fili, she had not received any indication that he harbored any feelings of romance towards her. However, his insistence of forming a friendship scared her. It was alarming how set he seemed to break through to her. As much as she enjoyed Fili's company, it was still better to keep things as simple as possible. She had played with fire before and she was not keen on being burned again. Fate was nipping at her heels but she would be damned if it caught her.

She could not, would not, risk it. Years ago she had gone down a dark path because of a crown. She would not do it again. She would not bring such devastation to another nation again.

* * *

From the darkness of the awning of the house, Sigurd had watched the scene play out. Beginning with Thrade approaching Thyra and Fili and the events that followed after Fili had departed. She had come out for a quick breath of cool air as the dancing had caused her to become overly warm. She had taken the back way and had planned to take a safe lap around the house when she heard raised voices and turned the corner just in time to see everything play out.

She had not made out the majority of the words exchanged, but there was one thing she had seen clearly.

The kiss.

The contrast between the one she witnessed and the one she had received just a few hours ago was astronomical. The biggest difference being the nearly physical pain she had felt within her chest when she watched Thrade grab Thyra and kiss her with a passion that she had only dreamed of receiving from him.

She had turned back around the corner of the house not long after their lips had first met. It had hurt too much to watch any longer. She remained there, hidden from them and protected not only from their view, but also the view of them.

Sliding down against the side of the house until she was crouched into a small huddle, she wrapped her arms around her legs and let her head fall down to her knees. Tears pricked in her eyes as the euphoria that she had been riding since that afternoon wilted and died like a plant during the coming of winter.

She was not sure how long she had stayed in that position, but when she finally managed to stand up and peek around the corner of the house, Thyra was gone and Thrade was alone. Automatically she moved towards him. He was pacing in a loopy circle, every once in a while looking in a direction then turning back and looking towards the house, as if contemplating which way he should go. As she grew nearer she could see the agitated way in which he moved as he muttered to himself. Most of his words were cursing of khuzdul, each time a profanity escaped his lips her rubbed his head in aggravation.

Her foot hit a piece of loose kindling, causing a hollow sound as it hit against another piece of wood. Immediately Thrade paused is pacing and whirled around. "Thyra-" he began, only to cut himself short when he realized the identity of the person approaching. "Oh...Sigurd," he corrected, his eyes wavering around. "Sorry I thought you were-"

"Thyra," Sigurd finished for him, doing her best to not let her voice sound bitter from the slight hurt that was brought about.

"Ahh, yes sorry, I just thought…" he drifted off, his eyes not fully meeting hers. "How long have you been out here?" he inquired, almost nervously.

"Um...not long," Sigurd lied. There was a pause as they each stood quietly in front of each other. Sigurd watched Thrade as he seemed to almost forget she was still there as his eyes moved around into the distance. "Thrade?" she said, only causing him to hum lightly as his eyes continued to search. "I was wondering...could we possibly...talk?"

Thrade stilled and finally looked at her when he heard the hesitancy in her voice. Immediately his eyes caught the puffiness around her eyes as well as the still wet streaks she had failed to wipe away from her face. Evidence that she had been crying. Intuition told him that Sigurd had perhaps been out much longer than she was letting on.

Immediately he felt he knew where this conversation was going and he did not like it. It was a conversation he had avoided for years now. And at the moment, in his state of mind, he was not in the mood to have it right now.

"Look Sigurd…" he began, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he let out a tired sigh. "Could we maybe talk later? I really just want to be alone right now."

Sigurd frowned at his dismissal. But nodded all the same as she turned and began to dejectedly walk away. She had made it four steps before she stopped herself. For a moment she stood there, staring back at the house where she was headed before whirling around.

 _No_ , she was tired of being brushed off. She was tired of being ignored. Taking on a face of determination, she took a few brave steps forward. Kili's declaration earlier had touched her, but it had also inspired her. He had impressed her with his bravery and she admired the way in which he had laid it all out there. And if she were to take his words seriously, there was something she had to do.

At her approach, Thrade looked up at her, a questioning expression coming to his face. "Sigurd what are you-"

"I have something to say," she interrupted. Thrade said nothing, too taken aback by the sharp tone in her voice. For a moment, Sigurd stalled, surprised by herself. But soon she reclaimed the muster of what she had set out to do. She took in a deep breath. "I love you," she stated bluntly. "And I know you know that, but I have never said it out loud. I have loved you for years and as much as I appreciate everything you have done for me. Treated me like family and looked out for me, I want to make something clear. I am not a little girl anymore and I am a woman, and I would like you to see me in that way."

There was a long pause as Thrade stiffly stood and looked at her. Crickets chirped and a breeze ran past them, ruffling the grass and causing the trees to rustle. As it died down it was replaced with a sigh from Thrade.

"Sigurd," he began delicately. He took a step forward, closing the distance and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I _know_ you are no longer a young girl. You have grown into a beautiful young woman, and I have seen you that way for a long time now. And I love you too." His words caused Sigurd face to brighten and he quickly continued before she took his words in a different meaning. "But," he countered, "as a sister."

Immediately, Sigurd face fell and she took a step back. "I am not your sister," she defended.

Thrade nodded. "I know by blood you are not. But in every other way you are. I love you and I am so proud of how you have grown and turned into a beautiful young woman."

Her face angled down and he heard a small sniffle. The sound of it was heart wrenching. Heart break was something he had never wanted her to fell. He had always thought he would break the legs of any many who would do such a thing. At the time, when he had thought that he had never thought it would be his own legs he would be in need of breaking.

"Hey," he said gently, tucking a handle under her chin and tilting her face up to look back at him. Tears rolled down from her saddened eyes and he brushed them away. "I am so sorry. I want you to find the love you seek and I hate that I cannot give you that. But it would not be right, it's not the right kind of love that you are looking for in which I can provide. All I can do is try my best to do what Dane would have done. I owe it to him."

At the mention of her brother, Sigurd took in a sharp breath. Finally, after a moment, she nodded as if in understanding but he wondered if was an automatic response or actual acceptance of his answer.

She sniffled. "I miss him,' she said between small sobs, "so much."

Thrade gave her a empathetic nod and pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and locking her into his chest. Automatically her arms wrapped around him and grasped onto the back of his tunic.

"So do I," he said quietly into her hair as he held her. "Not a day goes by that I don't miss Dane."

For a long time Sigurd stood there in his arms, latching on and sobbing into his chest. Soon the sobs died and she focused on the feel of his embrace. It was just as she remembered how Dane's were. Large, tight, and full of comfort. The more she thought about it, the more she began to realize just how much Thrade had worked to replicate what her brother had always done for her. And in that moment of analyzing, Sigurd realized something. Perhaps she had been confused about her feelings all this time. For as he held her in his arms, in a way that he had not held her in a long time, she realized that there was nothing more she wanted from him.

She had been blinded by the fantasy of romantic love that she had failed to see how Thrade truly was. In his attempt to distance her, he had abandoned most gestures of affection, brotherly or otherwise in hopes to not lead her on. But in that neglect, she had forgotten this bond from long ago. He wasn't her brother by blood, but Thrade was right, they were siblings in every other way.

After a long moment of revelation and thought, Sigurd loosened her grip and slid from his arms. She took a step back and looked down at the ground as a sudden rush of embarrassment washed over her. She had dedicated years of love to him that seemed to have been dissolved in minutes. It made her regret not pushing this conversation much sooner, but back then she had lacked even the smallest shred of confidence.

Digging her toes into the ground she glanced up at him bashfully. "Sorry," she apologized, doing her best to save face. "I understand now…I was confused...I just wish I had.." she ran a hand over her face. "Mahal this is mortifying."

She peeked up at him when she heard him chuckle. "It's fine Sigurd," he said with a shrug of his shoulders as he tucked his hands in his pockets. "To be honest, if things had turned out differently in the past, I think maybe our futures would have been different. But obviously fate decided this was not meant to be."

Sigurd gave him an appreciative smile for his efforts to ease her embarrassment. "Either way," she said, "I am grateful to have you in my life. Whatever we maybe."

Thrade smiled back at her, his own earlier heartache easing with her warm smile. He had always had a suspicion that Sigurd's healing abilities went beyond her herbs and bandages. Her being itself had healing properties. While he was certain a broken heart was not something she could heal for him, it at least eased the pain.

"Common," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and directing her towards the house, "Lets take a turn around the hearth. I think a hearty jig would be something Dane would have rather enjoyed with his sister."

* * *

Kili looked around the room, his eyes searching for Sigurd for another dance. He had been worried that she would avoid him after the events in the orchard. But to his surprise, she had been rather accepting of his presence. Her cheeks had gained a small tint of pink each time he looked or approached her, but other than that, things had been nearly perfect tonight.

The night had grown late and as he looked around, he noticed that Sigurd was not the only one who seemed to have disappeared. Thyra and Thrade where missing as well. Fili had been grouped in the missing persons for a short while but he had been accounted for when Kili caught him slip in through the door. He was going to go and inquire of him if he had seen Sigurd while outside, but Fili had made made a direct line to where their bedrolls were. His face looked grim and perturbed, causing Kili to think better than to bother him.

When Sigurd's absence lengthened, Kili became concerned. He told himself she was with Thrade or Thyra as he knew they would provide protection, but his mind would not be eased until he knew her safety was assured. So he dropped down from his perch on one of the high chairs and made his way towards the front door.

It was there from the threshold of the barn house that he had spotted her, safely tucked into Thrade's embrace. He watched Thrade bow his head, pulling her tighter and giving her head a soft caress. After that he couldn't watch any more. He immediately turned around and went back into the room. The cheerful tunes and happy dancing buzzed in his ears as he somberly walked to where the bedrolls where in the quiet section of the house. Giving Fili no regard who seemed to be in his own somber trance, he laid down and pretended to sleep. With his eyes closed, he did his best to let the happy tunes and laughter around him distract his mind from letting the image of Sigurd, wrapped in the arms of another man to consume his thoughts.

 **Wow finished this chapter way faster than expected but happy to be posting it so we can keep going! Thank you all for your feedback and follows! Finally done with the Bear Encounter and moving onto The Mirkwood!**

 **isakey: lol loved your reaction so glad you are so enthusiastic for this story and hope this next chapter was fast enough!**

 **CA1916: Happy to have you stick around for another one of my stories I hope you enjoy this one as much or more than the other one you read!**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: The Mirkwood Encounter Part I

There was something wrong with those that fell within the spectrum of the younger generation in their group. While emotions and tempers had been strained and challenged in the past months, Thorin was perplexed as to what had happened in less than a day to cause such tension. They were all over the place.

Fili and Thyra, who seemed to had created a delicate bond, seemed to have severed it as they each kept a wide berth from each other. Each of them constantly exchanging looks of anger.

Then there was Thyra and Thrade. The latter who seemed to have his eyes fall upon the maiden at least every few minutes or so for the past several weeks would not even glance in her direction. He seemed glum and if Thorin weren't mistaken, he was sulking.

And then there was the interaction between Thrade and his oldest nephew. The pair had always been companionable. But now, they looked like rivaling clan members. The looks exchanged between the pair reminded him of the ones that one's familiarly shared between a Durin and Brimir. Then again, that was exactly what they were. It was a thought that brought dread to the throneless king. He was not keen on such relationships being resurrected between his people and Asha's.

Kili, who had seemed to be blissfully on cloud nine last night was now seemingly in the pits of despair. He was quiet and gloomy. Even when Sigurd approached him and tried to speak with him he failed to smile. Which only seemed to dampen Sigurd's usually happy aura. It was as if someone had put something in their water to make them all sulky, gloomy, and agitated.

One contrasting theme to the others was the happy companionship between Sigurd and Thrade. But even that was an altered interaction. The pair had always seemed to have a good relationship but there was always a measured distance that Thrade seemed to always keep wedged between them. Now they were like two peas in a pod in the way they laughed and confided with each other.

Thorin shook his head at the bunch. He did not have time to be bothered by the woes and fraternizing of youth. So long as they followed command and did not let their emotions and contention affect this quest they could all remain the rainy clouds of gloom all the way to Erebor for all he cared. They were so close, if they had no delays they could be there in less than two weeks.

* * *

The path was only a small opening cut through the thick walls of the forest. It looked like the gaping jaws of a monster, and they were about to willingly feed themselves to it by walking into its mouth. Sigurd did not like the looks of it nor the smell. She always loved the forest, its bountiful flora always providing so many ways in which she could save lives and take away the pain. But not this one. This one only seemed it would bring death and suffering.

Gandalf approached the crumbled gateway that marked the beginning of the path, Thyra and Bilbo following after. Gandalf pushed aside some foliage growing on one of the pillars that still supported half and arch. He stepped back and frowned before looking deep into the forest as if searching for something. He muttered something inaudible to himself and made his way back towards Thorin. Fili caught sight of this action and watched Thyra investigate what Gandalf had been looking at. The moment she pulled away the vines she dropped them as if they had burned her.

Fili watched her grab onto her left wrist as she took several quick steps back. His eyes squinted as he focused on her. Her face had lost its usual color as she looked in his direction and found him watching her. She quickly looked away and moved to where the group was gathering.

"The path will lead you straight through," said Gandalf.

" _ **A gate with no door is an entrance with no welcome.**_ " Thyra spoke as she stared at the trees and crumbled gateway. When there was no response, she looked around to see that no one had understood her words. "A gate with no door is an entrance with no welcome," she repeated in Westeron this time. When no one seemed to understand what she was speaking of, she clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Not good place to go into. Another way there is?" she questioned, her words coming out wrong as she focused more on the trees than proper sentence structure.

Gandalf looked at her, surprised by her question. Thyra was not one to question the group's decisions. She took instruction and command obediently. "No. Not unless you want to travel 500 miles south to which you would never reach the mountain in time. If you were to go north, I fear there is a darkness there that you would pass by. A darkness that would not allow you to pass by." He looked intensely at Thyra who shivered under his stare but nodded anyways.

"What about Asha and her group?" Thorin asked, a shallow tone of concern in his voice. "They are passing in the north, will they be okay?"

Gandalf nodded. "She will be alright," he assured. "She has an army, not a company."

"Very well," Thorin accepted.

"I will meet you at the base of the mountain," Gandalf said before bending close to Thorin and whispering in his ear. "Do not enter that mountain without me."

Thorin nodded in agreement with his request. Satisfied, Gandalf moved to his horse.

"Wait." Cried Bilbo. "You are not going with us?"

"I am afraid not," Gandalf said as he looked at the hobbit and smiled compassionately. "Though I would if this was not urgent. But you have changed Bilbo. Something in misty mountains changed you."

* * *

As Gandalf disappeared into the horizon, the group began moving towards the path. All members slowly fell into a single line as they began to enter into the forest. Fili followed at the back of the line, pausing like the others before him to take a last breath of fresh air before entering through the ancient archway and into the forest.

As he passed through he glanced at the carved statue Gandalf and Thyra had been looking at. It was a depiction of a woman bowing her head with a vase of flowers. Her face had been smashed away on one side and on her chest, was a depiction of an eye, painted red with blood.

A sick feeling came into his stomach and the acid taste of bile rose in his throat. It was a disturbing image and the eye seemed to stare at him, evil emanating from its pupil. He had seen this depiction before but he could not quite place it. The image of Thyra looking at the eye flashed through his head. The way she had grabbed at her forearm, the look of panic. And it hit him. The image was the exact image that Thyra had burned into her left forearm. After everything that he learned over the past couple of days, knowing what that mark stood for, unnerved him.

He looked ahead and noticed he was falling behind and began a brisk walk to catch up. He saw Thyra turn her head slightly and watch him as he caught up. Her face still looked haunted as she gave him a quick look then turned her head forward again. Fili had only uncovered a minuscule portion of who Thyra really was. After yesterday she had yet to say a single word to him. Which was fine for him as he was still frustrated with her enough to be angry. But as the morning dragged on, he couldn't ignore the niggling itch to know more, to have more. There was no explanation for why he felt so curiously drawn to her. If he didn't know any better he would think he had an unhealthy obsession with her.

* * *

There was no day and night, there was no sunlight or moonlight. Just dim and darkened forest where the concept of keeping time seemed pointless.

With no way of distinguishing how much time was passing, the company resorted to walking as far as they could until their feet could go no more. And there they would rest for however long they dared. The feeling of always being watched made these times as short as possible.

They followed the cracked and sometimes nearly indistinguishable path that Gandalf had instructed them to stay on. So far, despite the circumstances, things had gone well. Until they reached the bridge, or at least where the bridge once was. Now there was nothing but rubble. The entire center was gone and all that was left of the bridge was the crumbled remains of the abutment on either side of the stream. Between them was a lazy stream that was mirrored beneath the swirling fog that veiled the reflective waters.

"We can try and swim it?" Suggested Bofur.

"You heard what Gandalf said," Thorin remarked from behind. "A dark magic lies upon this forest. The waters of this stream are enchanted."

"Doesn't look very enchanting to me," Bofur mumbled under his breath.

"We must find another way to cross it," Thorin remarked as he began to lead the group farther down the water's edge to study a different route.

"These vines should be sturdy enough," commented Kili as he gave one of the many hanging vines a firm tug. "He moved towards an exposed tree root that stuck out of the side of the bank and prepared to begin a cross over.

"Kili," Thorin commanded, stopping Kili before he began to make his way. "We send the lightest first."

Bilbo brook his eyes away from the stream and turned around to see everyone looking at him. His mouth opened and closed several times. Instinctively he wanted to turn to Thyra and volunteer her. She couldn't be much heavier than himself and she was certainly the most agile. But it was but a fleeting thought and he realized that the task was his. It was why he was here.

He approached the side and began plotting out a course. Taking in a deep breath, he took his first step on a hanging branch and grabbed onto a vine. Trying his weight on it, he stepped forward then moved to the next step.

It was not easy but it went by quickly and without too many missteps. All seemed okay until about halfway over. It was then he lost his balance and slipped from the branch he was on. He caught himself between a vine and half submerged log just in time to keep himself from falling face first into the water.

As he hung over the surface of the water that was too still, he got caught up in his reflection. It was not right. Something about it was strange and he felt his mind go fuzzy as he stared transfixed at the reflection. He felt his fingers begin to loosen but caught himself before he fully let go. Shaking his head to regain a clear mind he continued onward and finished navigating the last part of the crossing before coming to a hard tumble on the shore of the opposite side.

He let out a small groan before pushing himself back up. Now that he was no longer suspended over the foggy water his mind seemed clearer and he realized something truly had not been right.

"Somethings not right," he whispered to himself as he pushed himself onto his feet. "Something is not right at all."

He flipped over and sat down on the stony bank. "Stay where you are," he exclaimed loudly as he looked up. "Oh…"

He drifted off when he took in the sight of the entire group of dwarves all haphazardly tangled in vines, jumping from one branch to another, and dangling upside down.

Thyra was the first to land next to him after giving a small leap from the overhanging vines. Following behind her came the steady stream of dwarves as they all individually made their own ways over the bubbling yet eerily still water.

They were all nearly done. Everyone had safely touched down except for Bomber. All of them stood gathered around and near the shore as they watched the overly large dwarf sleepily move from one vine to the other. Immediately Bilbo knew something was off but was at a loss of what to do. His mind was too muddled and groggy to even begin to form a thought. And then it happened. Bomber landed on a vine as a loud snore erupted from his mouth just before he toppled over into the shallow water.

* * *

There had been a delay with the fishing of Bomber from the stream and then another when he seemed to not be able to wake up. It was finally decided that they could not wait. So Thorin managed to form the instruction to fashion a stretcher in which they took turns carrying the large dwarf. And onward they pressed, deeper into the forest where the air about them grew heavier and heavier.

The air was thick, too thick. Every time Sigurd's chest opened to take in a breath, the air seemed to lodge in her throat, too thick to be inhaled into her lungs and too heavy to push out. She was panting heavily as she followed the person ahead of her. She thought it had been Dori in front of her but as she looked at the figure in front of her, her vision blurred.

The dwarf shaped silhouette was nothing but a fuzzy blob in front of her. She stopped to try and let her eyes focus but something ran into her back. She turned around to see another blurry face nearly nose to nose with her. His face came in and out of focus. It was Kili who was looking at her.

Concern was written on his face but she could not place as to why. His lips were moving but it was like listening to someone speak when submerged in water. Only muffled sounds reached her ears and her eyes were too tired to focus on his lips to read them. She felt him touch her arms but it was as if they were numb. The pressure of his grip was there but nothing else, no other sensation that a normal touch to the skin brought. The warmth of his body, roughness of calluses, nothing.

"Siggy, Siggy!"

As if a bucket of cold water was dumped over her head, clarity and rejuvenation washed over her. Sigurd shook her head as if to rid herself of the remaining effects of what had put her in such a state.

"I am fine," she said quickly before turning around and moving to catch up with the front of the line

Kili watched her back as she moved forward. Something was not right with her. Her face had been vacant, as if she was struggling to register whom she was speaking with or even focus on the topic. Even he himself found his mind wandering.

It was as if there was some sort of drug in the air. Not only was his mind clouded but his senses seemed to be off as well. Everything echoed, the smallest of muffled sounds seemed to travel unnaturally farther than they should be heard. And there was something wrong with his eyes. It was as if his brain could not register what his eyes were taking in. Even now as he watched Sigurd walk away he could have sworn her steps were backwards.

And it seemed everyone was experiencing different symptoms. Bilbo was not far off, asking no one in particular if they too could hear the voices. If Kili was not mistaken, the person he was directing his conversation to was a tree. But then again, Kili's eyesight was off it could have very well been Bifur and the oddly shaped branch was the axe in his head. Next to where Kili stood Thorin was mumbling the opposite. That he heard nothing. No wind, no birds. In the next sentence he was questioning the hour. All the while, Bombur was loudly snoring as Fili and Dwalin carried him in the stretcher.

* * *

From the high perch of a large boulder, Thyra watched the rest of the group make their way down the path towards her. She had scouted ahead and was waiting for them to catch up. As she watched their slow progress she noticed they were all acting strangely. They were all walking aimlessly, several of them getting close to wandering off the path. And their movements were sluggish and stumbled. All of them. It was as if they had all ingested herbs used back in her home land for special ceremonies.

One by one they reached the rock that she was perched where they gathered for a rest. Some sat down while others vacantly stared off into the wilderness. Sweat poured from all of them, their coats shed long ago. Thyra herself had a layer of sweaty grim over her body as the humidity of the forest seemed to rise and fall throughout the day, the only indicator of what was day and night. At the moment, the sun must have been as its hottest point.

Thyra wiped the beading sweat from her brow before climbing down to report to Thorin. He seemed to have a somewhat clear mind which gave her a peace of mind to know. She herself felt a small effect of whatever was in the air but it seemed not to the same extent as others. She assumed it was not necessarily because she had a tolerance to it, but more so that she knew how to mindfully maneuver when under the influence. She knew to ignore the shadowed figures that looked unnatural and the random lights that were appearing here and there.

As she walked towards Thorin, she caught Fili watching her, his eyes staring lazily as if he was finding it difficult to focus. Abruptly he grinned sappily at her, his face morphing into a nearly boyish harmony.

 _Yes_ , Thyra thought to herself, something was definitely wrong. Since Beorn's she had only received the familiar old glares of accusation and anger. She hated that look now and she hated herself for hating it. Because it was what she needed. She needed Fili to hate here because she could not trust herself enough. Or in more accurate terms, she could not trust fate.

He was taking his turn to carry Bombur with Dwalin and Bofur. The other two looked just as dazed and confused as Fili. They set the slumbering Bombur down, Dwalin and Bofur collapsing where they stood. Fíli on the other hand, stepped forward, blocking Thyra's path to Thorin.

She gave him a disapproving look as he unsteadily stood gazing at her. "What do you want?"

Fili's goofy grin fell at her words. With what seemed to take great effort he lifted his hand and placed a finger to her lips.

"Shhhhh," he slurred as he changed his expression into one who would be slightly annoyed. "Always so grim and serious," he lectured before bringing his other hand up to cup her check.

Thyra wanted to move back but his actions had stunned her and he stepped closer. With both of his hands on each side of her face he suddenly pulled the corners of her mouth up with his thumbs. He stared at her for a moment, taking it in before nodding in approval.

"Much better," he said happily. "I like this Thyra! I like happy Thyra." Thyra slapped his hands away, releasing her face from his grip. "You see there it is again," he said throwing a finger in her face. "Glare, glare, glare. Always with the glaring."

Thyra rolled her eyes and side stepped him as she mumbled underneath her breath.

* * *

"Oh look, someone dropped a pipe," exclaimed Nori as he lifted the leather bag from the ground.

"Hey that's mine," claimed Dori. "How did it get there?"

"Because we are going in circles!" Shouted Dwalin in frustration. "We are lost."

An eruption of woes and complaints filled the air. It was pitch black and the torches that they had lit did nothing to dissipate the darkness. It was as if the darkness was impervious to nearly everything. Everything except the glowing red and yellow eyes of shapeless creatures that watched them from the dark.

"Hey look over there!" Balin's voice broke through the uproar, causing all attention to be drawn to him as he stood with his finger pointed out into the forest. "Look there, I thought I saw a twinkle of light in the forest."

They all looked into the mass of darkness that was lay before them. It took a moment, but soon they were all beginning to see what Balin was seeing. There was a small light that seemed to slowly grow the longer they stared at it. Burning under the trees to the left of the path, a good way off the trail, the lights twinkled enticingly.

"Do you think someone is there?" Commented Dori. "Perhaps they might have food!"

"It looks as if my dreams are coming true," Bombur whispered wistfully. The plump dwarf had woken earlier that day with a voracious appetite, only to find out that they had run out of rations the day before. He had then went about describing the great feast he had dreamt about, listing the delicacies and drinks until Thorin nearly had to threaten him to in order to stop the torture of their growling stomachs.

"A feast would be no good, if we never came back alive from it," Thorin warned.

"But without a feast we shall not remain alive much longer anyway," Bomber countered, and the majority of the group heartily agreed.

After a great deal of debating, the group slowly crept to the source of light. Peaking and crawling they peered around the trees and looked into what was a circular clearing. In the middle was a fire and all around the circle the flames of lit torches danced around to illuminate the clearing. The smell was what enticed them the most. Roasting meat wafted through the air, causing their hungry mouths to water and enchant them so much, that without consultation, all of them leapt up from their hiding places and dashed to the table of food.

Their hollars of begging for food was immediately silenced no sooner than the first of their group stepped into the clearing. As if by magic, all the lights went out. They were left in pitch blackness to spin around blindly, not even able to see each other in the dark. They bumped and crashed into each other, several of them stumbled over the same log and fell on top of eachother. It was utter chaos until suddenly they were able to see again in the dimmest of lighting.

They had but a moment to regroup and reorient themselves before Dori let out a loud shout. "The lights are coming from over there, and there are more than before!"

Thyra, who had caught on the the enchantment of the forest, watched in horror as the group began dashing towards the foreign lights again. She called out a warning but it fell upon deaf ears as her foreign tongue was the only one she could manage to recall at the moment. Instinctively her arm reached out to stop the person closest to her. Pulling at their arm she found herself bringing Fili to her face to face.

" _ **It's dangerous**_ ," she exclaimed. " _ **Stop them**_." His response was that he stared at her with an odd expression. " _ **Why are you not stopping them**_!" She exclaimed.

Again he only stared as his hand moved up to touch her face. Before she could speak again his eyes drifted past her then widened with horror.

A sharp pain in her back, followed by nearly immediate numbness and loss of feeling, flooded her body. She stared back at Fili who was now looking down at her, grabbing onto her as she felt her legs give out. She kept her eyes on him for as long as she could before blurry darkness began to take over. The last her eyes could manage to see was Fili bent over her motionless body as thin, spindly legs lowered down behind him from the trees. And then like the mysterious lights before, she was out.

 **My bad its been awhile. Thank you all to those who are still hanging in there. I don't know why I keep going on hiatus with this story but I keep getting** **distracted** **. I did a mixture of book and movie with this chapter pulling from each of them so if you are only familiar with one or the other, the parts you did not recall were most likely in the other version. Thank you all for those who gave input and shared your thoughts! It always makes my day to read your reactions!**


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: The Mirkwood Encounter Part II

 _When Fili's face faded as she slipped into darkness, it was as if she were waking up immediately. Only she was not lying on the forest floor of the Mirkwood. Instead, she had been transported to the other side of the world in a throne room that had seen better days. It was still immaculately decorated and crafted, but the signs of a failing kingdom were beginning to show. The floor did not shine as brightly from the lack of polish and the soldiers that stood guard looked hollow faced from lack of rations._

" _Do it," came the hard voice of her uncle. "Break free."_

 _Thyra tried to move but her numb hands failed to move properly after the hour of tight ropes binding them together. She lay on the floor her face pressing against the cold floor as she breathed heavily. It felt good against her heated face as sweat from exertion formed across her skin. With her eyes closed, she took in heavy pants as she tried to regain her strength._

 _A click of her uncles tongue caused her to open her eyes and look up at him from the corner of her eye. He stood above her with his arms crossed as he looked at her with disgusted disappointment._

" _How do you expect me to help you control it if you cannot even summon it," he said harshly._

 _Thyra glared up at him as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. "I was a child the last time I did it. I hardly even remember what happened," she defended. With some difficulty with her hands tied behind her back, she stood up and took a step towards him. "You said you would help me control it, yet you can't even tell me how to release it." His eyes narrowed in warning but she continued. "I am beginning to think you don't even know how to control it, let alone call upon it. Are you sure you summoned the blood rage?"_

 _His hand crossed her face in a hard strike, sending her head turning. When she looked back at him, he was holding a warning finger in front of her face._

" _Careful little niece, those words border on treason," he threatened. "I have no use for treachery in my kingdom."_

 _Thyra caught the crazed look in her uncles eyes. Knowing better than to speak, she merely nodded. For the past year now, since she had helped her uncle gain balance after the war, she had been becoming more and more aware of the possibility that she had made a gruesome mistake. In her time serving her uncle, she had yet to see him expose his ability to summon the blood rage, and his obsession with hers was all the more alarming._

 _He had promised her to teach her to control it and to understand its powers. But she had still yet to learn anything from him and her access to the vault of blood was prohibited. An archive dedicated to the hallowed power of their ancient leaders. Only the monarch could be granted such access, and she was no queen, she had given up the chance. Though if Aelle continued as he was, she felt she would be more and more inclined to change that._

 _Blood rage, while revered to her people, was also a mystery. Most of what she had heard and learned were borderline rumors with most likely hardly any truth. But there was one that had always made her fearful of the power. It was one of the reasons she was sent to the peaceful countryside of her grandfather. It was also the reason why she had sought Aelle's help._

 _There was a reason why people feared the blood rage just as much as they revered it. Rulers never had usurpers in the past because no one was willing to go against one of the blood rage. It was the mistaken ideology of her people's history to support such abilities completely. While united under their rulers, it was not necessarily always loyalty that kept them in line, it was fear. And Thyra believed fear was not a marking measurement for a person to be worthy to rule. No one should ever fear their ruler. It was inspiriting to believe she would have never abused her power. Had she accepted the throne and crown, perhaps life would be a lot different for their people. Perhaps her family would still be her family and maybe her people would not be mercenary slaves._

 _Unfortunately, honesty was a great trait of Thyra, even to herself. She knew herself well, she knew her weaknesses, and even better she knew her dark desires. As much as the blood rage was a god desired power, it was also a curse._

 _The proper name should b_ _e_ _ **blóðþorsta**_ _, bloodthirst. Each time you enter the blood rage it becomes harder and harder to let go. A person can become lost and consumed by the power. It's addictive and intoxicating and can make the strongest of minds go mad with the desire of blood shed. She was nine years old when she first experienced it. She knew nothing of how to control it. It was one of the many reasons she was sent to her grandfather, so she would be away from violence and bloodshed. An environment that would be less likely to bring out the blood rage._

 _When Thyra came back to court, it was to mourn her father but instead she became ensnared in politics. She could have prevented the war. No one would have gone against her, knowing what she possessed. But she didn't want the crown. She was too fearful of the intoxication that she might experience once she had a taste of power._

 _It was just unfortunate she did not realize she could have prevented the war and not taken the crown from her brother.. All she had to do was stand by his side. Unfortunately, she was too weak and naive at the time, and she let herself be manipulated. Then power had tempted her and for a while she had chased it. She had thought she had been resisting it, but now she realized she had been seeking it out._

 _She looked at her uncle with a hard expression. Honor, loyalty, it was what her people lived, breathed, bled, and died for. But now as she considered it, was keeping her oaths worth it all? Perhaps her disgrace of breaking such a thing, could be the saving grace of her people. It was a dangerous thought. As her uncle said, it was treacherous. But all the same, perhaps it was time to right her wrongs. Thyra did not like to believe she made wrong decisions, she always did what she thought was best, no matter the consequences. Giving her uncle the crown was a mistake that was a hard admission to swallow. As she stared into the spiteful eyes of her uncle that were hungry and envious, she knew what she had to do. It was time. She would go to her brothers. And if she was not beheaded instantly, she would break an oath to make an oath._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _She stood next to her uncles throne, hands folded behind her as she stared down at the cowering man who kneeled at the foot of the dais. As the man begged and pleaded for mercy, Thyra stood stone faced and unmoved. Within her body, her stomach clenched and she felt the sickening pity that she always did. But pity was a cruel thing to bestow upon a person. Already the man was disgracing himself with his groveling. It was not the way of their people, but then again, it was moments like these that truly tested those who were honorable and true to what they presented._

 _From the corner of her eye she caught the careless flick of her uncles hand. A silent command that Thyra did not need words to know what her bidding was. She had done this enough times that it nearly took no thought. It was a knee jerk reaction that muscle memory could perform._

 _Silently, she descended the dais. Her movements caught the crying man's attention and he let out a scream of protest as he fell back onto his bottom and began to shuffle backwards. It was a pathetic attempt of escape and only served to make this task, if but a little easier. The quicker she worked, the faster she could end his shame._

 _She pulled the blade from her back. It was shorter than the one she used now and far less precious. While not as valuable, it still served its purpose. In a swift clean cut, she brought it down, severing his head from his body and silencing his screams in an instant. Ignoring the droplets of warm blood she felt on her skin, Thyra wiped her sword clean and returned it to its place on her back. All the while, a maroon pool formed at her feet as a pair of guards came hesitantly to clear the body. They eyed her warily as if she were to strike them down at any moment. But their side looks and low whispers went ignored as she stood and watched them drag the body away._

 _Her eyes followed the red streak that marred the intricately tiled floor. As a child she used to play in the room, following the pattern of the floor around as if wandering a maze. The mosaic of the throne room had always been something she had admired, its grandeur always beautiful. Now she hated and despised this room. It had become nothing other than an execution block, and she, the executioner. Aelle's executioner, it was just one of the many names she was called these days._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _Dainsleif was the sword of swords. Wielded by Ragnar himself, the sword was said to possess a supernatural hardness and sharpness to its blade. Passed down from successor to successor since his rule, Dainsleif became an object that bordered on sacred relic. But unlike other relics, this sword did not get tarnished nor diminish from its original, pristine condition. After centuries of battles and raids, it was as sharp as the day it was forged._ _Dainsleif gave its victims wounds that never healed, and it was said that once it had been loosed from its scabbard, it must kill a man. Each wielder was bound to the blade, even in death, giving the new wielder the skill and valor of all previous holders before them._

 _Thyra watched as Aelle tossed Dainsleif onto the table as carelessly as he treated his kingdom. He rounded to the other end and sat himself before the meal that was a larger portion than a day's worth of food his subjects consumed in a day. As he tore into a chicken leg, Thyra eyed the sword that lay on the table._

 _That sword was one of the few things that gave him the power to do what he did. To some it might just be another sword, just an object, but to her, to her people, it meant everything. If someone else were to claim that sword, many would see it as a sign from the gods. If that sword had been held by Hvitserk at the beginning of the war, his army would have been twice of what it had been. But it had been Thyra who had managed to win the sword and foolishly present it to Aelle upon his kingship._

 _Now, as she stared at the sword, her mind began to run wild as her heart beat thunderously against her chest. King Maker, that was another of her names. Though hardly spoken aloud, it was common knowledge that Thyra, not Aelle, had made him king. So it was only fitting that she made a new one._

 _The sword, Hvitserk had said, if he no longer had the sword, he would lose supporters. And if Hvitserk were to wield it, who would argue his right to the throne? Can you get it, he had asked her, can you bring the sword? If you do, then you can come here._

 _Get the sword. That was all she had to do. Get the sword and she could leave Aelle's services. Bring the sword and she could finally be free. No longer would she slaughter her people, one starving citizen after another, always execution style. No longer would she be sent on assassinations and have to worry about Aelle finding out that her victims were always quietly smuggled out before she staged a dead body. And no longer would she continuously lie to herself, day after day, that she was okay, that she could handle it._

 _It had been two years since she had gone to Hvitserk and pledged herself. And it had been an unwelcome reunion. She had been bound and thrown into prison. Her younger brothers had cried for her head while as the rest of the camp pleaded that they be granted to perform a thousand cuts upon the Great Valkyrie of their age. It was a title she had been known by Aelle's subjects. Valkyrie with clipped wings was what the rebels called her, as she was nothing but a lap dog in his service. And they had been right._

 _Before a decision had been made, Hvitserk had come to her in the middle of the night and made her an offer. She could earn a place by his side, so long as she played spy. She would have to remain close with her uncle, gain his confidence. And while she did that, she would leak information. After she agreed, he released her, making it look as if she had escaped on her own._

 _It had been a long two years which had changed her greatly. Many things had changed since she left the tranquil seaside of her grandfather's home. Oh how she longed for the innocent years again. The things that she had done since then had been too easy. It disturbed her how naturally it came to her. Her fighting skills, her knowledge on the battlefield, it was second nature to her just as breathing was. And she was ready to no longer need it._

 _Thyra stared hungrily at the sword. That piece of metal was her ticket to freedom. It was her redemption. No matter what, nothing would prevent her from bringing it to her brother, the rightful king of the Régínn._

* * *

Everything was muffled when she came to. Her body was no longer numb but she was still unable to move it. The more she came out of her dreams and became more aware, as the effects of whatever had knocked her out wore off, she began to notice the tightness that was constricting her movement. Within the cocoon of her bindings, Thyra began to panic.

She had not always been like this, but over the years, she had learned to hate small spaces. She did not like the feeling of being trapped, physically or mentally. Her heart jumped into her throat and she began to thrash around. Her mind went into full survival mode as she struggled to think past her panic.

"Thyra stop moving," came a muffled voice. "I need to cut away the webbing, hold still before I cut off a finger."

 _Webbing_ , she questioned in her mind, was that what she was bound with? It was enough distraction, along with the promise of her release from her bindings, that she was able to calm her mind and hold still. As soon as she was motionless she felt the snap of tension being cut away as whoever was releasing her worked expertly.

Fili came into sight when the sticky and tangled webbing was cut and pulled away from her face. Armed with one of his many daggers, he helped her sit up as he began to work at cutting the silk net that constrained her. His skill was meticulous, not a single thread of her clothing was severed as he worked at the webbing. But it was also slow. Too slow for Thyra's liking. She needed to be free, she needed to be able to move, to run, to no longer be captive.

As soon as he freed one of her arms she began to take over. Ripping and pulling at the webbing, she tore away the silky spindles with her bare hands. When Fili got in her way, she pushed him aside and savagely tugged at her bindings until she was free. Immediately she stood up, taking a few steps to the side of the group disoriented dwarves as they pulled webbing from their clothing and collected their gear.

As she pulled away the remaining fibers from her clothing and hair, she took in shaky breaths as she tried to calm the tremors of panic within her. Closing her eyes she spoke to herself in her mother tongue, quoting a children's rhyme that her grandfather always recited to her on the nights she had night terrors.

"Thyra are you okay?" She felt a hand fall on her shoulder as his question sounded quietly in her right ear.

She turned to look over her shoulder and was greeted by Fili looking at her with concern. His hand felt warm on her skin, having grown cold and numb from the lack of circulation. For a moment she quietly stared back at him and for a moment, she gave in and basked in the regard for her well being.

And then she remembered herself, and her brow hardened. " _ **I'm fine**_ ," she replied in Régan.

She pushed his hand away and moved over to where Sigurd was checking over a weary looking Balin. Fili watched her go, studying the way her fingers clenched tightly to hide the quake that she was doing her best to hide.

* * *

The group had retrieved their supplies and were reforming, when all of a sudden, a spider jumped down onto Bombur. The fat dwarf fell to the ground wrestling with the spider's pincers and doing his best to keep it at bay.

"Quickly grab its legs," said Dwalin while taking a hold of a leg himself.

Several within the group joined him and together they pulled tightly on each individual leg. They managed to stretch the spider out until there was an unsettling squelch as the legs were ripped from the spider's body. Those who were pulling fell down to the ground and the body of the spider fell heavily onto Bombur, who let out a deep grunt. Sigurd watched as slimy goo dripped from where its appendages used to be. Feeling sick she turned to look away only to see three more spiders coming their way.

"There are more coming," she shouted.

She reached up, grabbed an arrow, and sent it flying. It stopped in one of the approaching spiders' eyes. Despite the high pitched screech of pain, it did nothing to slow it down, it seemed to only anger it more. Sigurd reached up for another arrow but before she could let it loose, the spider was on top of kicked at it with her heavy boot, keeping its nipping pinchers just a few inches away from her flesh. But the spider was heavy and she was growing tired. As her legs began to give out, an arrow suddenly protruded from its head. She twisted her body just in time to see Kili notch another arrow and send it flying as he dashed towards her.

The scuffle seemed to end almost as quickly as it started as the group spread out and took care of the attacking spiders quickly and efficiently.

"Are you okay?" Kili asked Sigurd as he looked down at her foot. "Is your foot okay?"

Sigurd shook her head then looked past him to see Thyra, followed by Fili and Thrade walking briskly towards her. " _ **Poison**_?" Thyra asked as she bent down and began to look at her boot, expecting it for any puncture.

Sigurd shook her head. "No," she replied. "I am fine, Kili brought it down before it could do anything." Sigurd looked to Kili and gave him a warm smile that made his ears turn red.

"It was nothing," he said casually. "However, the size of those spiders _was_ something," he commented, looking around to Thrade, Fili, and Sigurd. "Do you suppose there was some sort of spell cast upon them to make them so big?"

Thyra stood up from the ground. "They are the spawn of Ungoliant," she said to Kili. "Now you understand why I...dislike spiders."

Kili's eyes widened. "You have seen these before?"

Thyra nodded. "Yes but the more ancient ones are much bigger."

"You mean they get bigger than this?" Kili exclaimed. "How much bigger?"

Thyra smirked. "You do not want to know."

Kili opened his mouth to question her further but Thorin's beckoning voice called over to them and grabbed the group of young dwarves' attention. "Quickly now, before there are more," said Thorin. "Master Baggins which direction do we need to go?"

Bilbo was slightly dazed at first as he fidgeted with something in his pocket. But once Thorin repeated his question gruffly he seemed to recover from whatever shock he had just gone through. "Oh right, it is this way, follow me," he said taking off in the direction that he had seen the mountain above the treeline.

Unfortunately, it did not take very long before more spiders began coming down on the company again. They fought them off as a group while still moving in the direction of the mountain but even that was soon put to a quick stop. Kili looked ahead and watched as Thorin came to a halt with his sword raised and eyes attentive to something above them.

Kili followed Thorin's line of sight, looking for what had stalled him. At first he saw nothing but numerous spiders descending on them, but then he saw what had really caught his attention. A tall slender figure gracefully ran along the tree branches. In fluid motions he withdrew and arrow, notched it, and let it lose. In the time that it took the arrow to hit its target, he had another arrow ready to be let loose. As he watched with awe and envy of the archers skills, Kili began to notice several other figures mixed in the tree branches, all moving quickly towards them.

"Elves," whispered Thrade who was standing next to him.

Kili looked to his side to see Thrade and Sigurd standing and watching with awe as well, as the elves made quick work of the arachnids. As the final eight legged corpse fell down to the ground with a heavy thud, a tall blonde elf came down behind it. He landed lightly on his feet with barely and effort in grace with his bow pulled back and aimed for Thorin.

"Do not think I will kill you dwarf," said the elf. Thorin gave the elf a hard look but did not dare move a single muscle. As the remainder of the elves gathered down around them, the blonde leader gave out another command. "Search them."

* * *

As they finished surrendering their weapons. The blonde elf scanned his piercing blue eyes around the group, stopping when he noticed that there was one left to give up their arms.

Thyra stood defiantly in the back, her sword held close to her body with the hilt clutched firmly to her chest. He moved fluidly towards her, giving her a calculated look before he wrapped his thin long fingers around the shoulder of the sword. He narrowed his eyes once then began to pull it away from her body. It was obvious he expected her to instantly let go but her arms followed along with the blade. The elf had managed to pull it four inches from her body before he was met with resistance.

He glared at the small Régínn as she firmly held the blade in her hands. He moved to jerk it away but made little progress as she continued her firm grip, adding her second hand to grip strongly to the blade itself.

"Thyra," prodded Thrade from behind. "Give it up."

His words went unheard as she set her eyes firmly in defiance.

"Let go," commanded the elf.

Thyra pulled the sword back towards her, then the elf pulled it towards him. This action continued until each of their forces of pull evened out and it turned into a silent and fractional game of tug-of-war.

"Thyra give it to him," Thrade said as he approached her.

Fili watched as Thrade grabbed Thyra and attempted to pull her free from the sword as the elf continued to pull the blade from her fingers. This only served to cause Thyra to tighten her grip and a flow of blood began to glisten across the blade.

"Thyra!" Thrade shouted with a tone of worry. "You're hurting yourself! LET GO!"

Thyra shook her head jerkily as she wriggled within her captors arms. Fili watched as the blood began to drip in a more heavy flow. If she continued this, she would end up slicing her own fingers off. He was just as disgruntled to lose his own blades but he knew there was a point when fighting was hopeless. He did not understand why she was resisting this so much.

As two elves began to make their way over to assist their captain, Fili knew he had to step in before Thyra lost not just her fingers but her hands when an impatient elf decided it would be the easiest way to extract the weapon. Moving quickly Fili grabbed both of her wrists. The moment he made contact he saw her look at him. He met her eyes and saw the familiar glare that he once got on a daily basis when they had first made acquaintance. Her brow narrowed as her jaw set and he felt her muscles shift beneath his hands as she tightened her grip. Several more red lines of blood began to drip down the pristine blade.

Fili did not try to pull her hands away, that had already been proven futile by Thrade. Instead he let his thumbs glide across the inner wrist to a certain point then pressed hard. He saw the alarm flash in her eyes the moment he hit the pressure point. She did her best to resist her hands from opening but it was only for a moment before they began to uncurl against her will.

The moment they loosened enough, the sword was snatched away. Thyra moved forward but Fili was already prepared and grabbed her before she could take a step. She wrestled his arms but he held her firmly as her eyes followed the sword being added to the collection of weapons. As soon as the blade was added to the collection, the elves holding them began walking away.

The moment they were out of sight, Thyra twisted her head to look accusingly at Fili. He hated the look but then he caught sight of her blood covered hands, and he knew he had made the right choice. Thyra was a shield maiden. Her fingers were essential. Letting his grasp loosen on her, she quickly pushed his arms away as she moved away from him. He watched her as Sigurd moved next to her and tried to examine her hand but she refused to let the healer even have a glance of the wounds hidden within her clenched hands.

* * *

The deeper beneath the rocky cavern they were led, the colder and danker it became. After they were taken captive, they were herded like sheep for quite some time until they reached a large chasm with a swift river that flowed within. An ached stone bridge crossed the gap, connecting the forest and the high doorway of the elven kingdom.

From there they were separated from their leader. Thorin was taken to the elvin king while the rest were forced to take an alternate route. Through a maze of carved passageways and stairwells, the company was led to the lowest part of the elven kingdom. Finally they reached the kings dungeons where they were led to a large cell and one by one, the elves pushed them towards the cell door and roughly deposited them into the cell. All of them except one.

As soon as the time came for Thyra to enter the large cell, she began to fight. It was as if something snapped. Throughout the entirety of their being captured and taken prisoner, Thyra had been relatively compliant with the exception of giving up her sword. She had obediently followed in line, not uttering a single word or giving even a threatening look. But now, as the elf began to push her towards the barred prison cell, she began to thrash around as if she were headed to the chopping block.

She dug her heels into the ground causing her guard to come to a fast halt. Just as his grip on her shoulder was lost, she ducked down and spun away from him. Immediately the male blonde who had been in charge, Legolas as they had learned in the journey of the captivity, looked over the the direction of the commotion.

"What is going on?" he called out to his command. "Control her."

Two elves were now doing their best to hold onto and restrain the wild Régínn, with the extra effort of a third one joining in, they managed to bring her down to the ground. Pinned to the stone floor, Thyra's body became constrained as her face was pressed down onto the cold floor.

Fili watched as her eyes, always so calm and calculative, wildly moved around in panic. She let out a vicious growl as she tried to push up with the one arm that was not pinned beneath her body but one of the elves quickly grabbed it and twisted it behind her back. For a moment, as he stared at her between the bars, she locked eyes with him and it was like watching his memories being played out before him. He had seen that look in her eyes before, it was a dull look that was on the verge of a person about to give up. The look of defeat. But Thyra was not like other people, Fili knew this. She was not about to give up, she was about to go to her last resort.

As her eyes began to fall closed, Fili knew that he had to do something, he had to stop her. If she went into blood rage, she would be killed, quite possibly they would all be killed. He turned to Sigurd who was calling out to Legolas to stop. Tears poured down her cheeks as she shouted out to deaf ears.

"You need to stop her," Fili declared as he grabbed her shoulder and turned her towards him.

"I-I'm t-trying," she choked out in a stutter. "B-but t-they w-wont l-list-listen."

Fili was slightly taken aback by the severity of her stutter but the urgency of stopping Thyra took precedence. "I am not talking about them," he said pointing to the guards. "You have to stop her," he emphasized, pointing to the pinned Thyra. "She won't listen to me, she is angry with me. But she might listen to you."

When Sigurd's quiet and stuttered words failed to reach past the bars, he looked over her head to see Thrade starring helplessly at Thyra.

"Thrade," he called with authority. The older dwarf looked towards him and Fili pointed in Thyra's direction. "You have to command her to stop." Thrade opened his mouth as if to protest but Fili threw a hand against the bars which gave out a loud rattle. "I am not asking," he said firmly.

"I can't have her me mad at-"

"She is already angry with you!" Fili cut it, "So what difference will it really make if she has another reason. I know you care about her. If you do not want her to die, tell her to stop before there is no stopping her."

Thrade did not seem to like the way in which Fili addressed him, but the golden prince did not care. If Thrade hated him for the rest of his life, then so be it. He could live with it. However, if Thyra died, that he would not be able to live with. Knowing he could have prevented it and done nothing. That he could not, would not, live with. So it was with great relief that Thrade turned back to Thyra and with a commanding tone, spoke for her to submit under the authority of her life debt.

For a long bated breath, Fili watched as Thyra's body went rigid. Silence and an unnatural stillness fell upon the dungeon and the elf guards that were pinning her down looked at eachother with confused expressions. Finally, ever so slowly, Thyra opened her eyes and Fili was more than relieved to see the usual darkness instead of the haunting deep voids that had raged the last time he had watched her enter the blood rage.

With hesitant movements, her captors began to ease up. At first Thyra did not move but after another command from Thrade she picked herself up and stiffly walked to the prison cell. She stopped just past the threshold where the door was slammed shut behind her. The loud clanging of metal seemed to vibrate through her as her body twitched at the loud clatter. She remained standing there with her head bowed and loosened hair curtaining her face.

Sigurd was the first to approach her. "T-Thyra," she stuttered out. "Are y-you o-okay?"

Thyra's head jolted up when Sigurd's tender hand reached out to gently touch her arm. In a swift movement Thyra slapped her hand away and muttered several sentences of her mother tongue that Fili did not understand. Whatever she had spoken to Sigurd, had an immediate effect on the sweet and gentle healer. With each word, the dark haired girl seemed to physically flinch as more tears welled up in her eyes. The stream of Régan was cut off abruptly when Thrade interceded.

Physically grabbing onto Sigurd, he passed her off to Kili as he stood in front of Thyra. "Thyra how can you-"

He was cut off as Thyra pushed past him. Thrade, looking like a kicked puppy, moved forward to follow after her but Fili caught his arm. "Don't," Fili instructed. "Let her be."

Thrade's hurt look turned into one of anger as he pulled his arm free from Fili's grasp. "You may be a _prince_ , but you are not _my_ prince," he spat. "Order me like a subject again and I swear…"

"I wasn't ordering you," Fili defended. "I was looking out for Thyra."

Thrade narrowed his eyes. "She doesn't need you to look out for her, she has me. And when I am not around, she knows how to protect herself from dangers, so stay away from her."

Fili let out a scoff. "I am not doubting she can keep herself safe from outside threats. That is not what I was worried about. It's herself that she needs protecting from. And your infatuation with her blinds you to that."

Thrade stepped closer to him. "You think you know her so well? You have known her for what, a couple of months?" He let out a skeptic snort. "I have known her for years, don't you dare lecture me on nothing you know of."

"I am not trying to compete with you Thrade," Fili said calmly. "I am just looking out for this company. Had she killed or injured one of them or even continued to resist, they would have killed her, possibly all of us. She was endangering us and she needed to be stopped. You were the only one present who had that power over her. I had you command her for that reason only. We are on a quest, we have a mission. I will do everything in my power to see that it is a success. If you can't put your emotions aside, and do what is best for everyone for the sake of preserving your good graces with Thyra, then you don't know her at all. And if you cannot see that, then maybe you should not have come on this quest."

Whether it was because he knew Fili was right or because his anger had rendered him mute, Thrade said nothing in return. Instead he turned away with a huff and took a seat down by a crying Sigurd who was being consoled by Kili.

With his departure, Fili suddenly felt weary. He let out a heavy sigh and leaned against the the metal bars that he stood by. As soon as his back hit the cold metal, he was sliding down to the ground. It was strange, but for the first time, he felt like a commander, a leader, an heir to the throne.

Thorin was still absent, he had panicked at being separated at first as Thorin was the leader. But there was something about watching Thyra and knowing what she was going to do, knowing what the consequences could be, and knowing exactly how to prevent it, that made him feel...powerful. Like he could handle the burden of such things.

For some odd reason he found this humerus and he let out a light huff and laughed to himself. He closed his eyes as the mirth began to die down. He must truly be delirious to think such things. And with that thought, he drifted off into a light slumber.

* * *

When he opened his eyes again, Thorin was still gone, but it seemed the guards had brought food and drink for them. As he looked around the company, he saw that several of them were still eating while others were now lying down, taking advantage of their idleness and full stomachs to catch some sleep. They all seemed to be well off giving the circumstances. Thrade still gave him a hard look when they met each other's eyes but Fili had a feeling that would linger for awhile. Sigurd looked to be at least a little more cheered but even as she gave a small smile to Kili, who was doing his best to lift her spirits, there was a sadness to her eyes each time she glanced in the direction of Thyra.

That finally brought him to Thyra. It seemed she was the only one who had not found herself some food, or even moved for that matter. She was sitting in the farthest corner where she had isolated herself. Fili caught sight of her blood crusted hands and realized that no one had seen to her wounds yet.

While he was tempted to let her sit and sulk, he knew he needed to make sure the company stayed together and well in Thorin's absence. He was no healer, but he knew Thyra would not let Oín see to her wounds and with Sigurd's feelings hurt, he was not about to subject her to Thyra's harshness so soon. And besides, he had some of his own words that needed to be shed upon her.

* * *

After retrieving a few supplies from Oín, as he did not want to bother Sigurd, Fíli walked over to the corner where Thyra sat with her knees drawn up to her chest and arms folded on top as she rested her head against her forearms. Fíli knew that she was going to refuse what he was about to do but she needed to attend to her wounds before they became infected.

She did not even lift her head when he lowered himself down in front of her. He grabbed one of her arms and tried to pull it free but she retracted it. Pulling her arms back to rest between her stomach and chest as she finally looked up at him.

A week of wandering through a dirty woodland, battling oversized arachnids, and rustling with elves had left her face caked in dirt, sweat, and grime. The dark kohl that usually rimmed her eyes was smeared and smudged, emphasizing the dark shadows of exhaustion that most like adorned everyone's face.

However he was taken aback by the clear track marks running down her cheeks that had obviously been washed away by tears. He had thought he caught tears building up in her eyes earlier but never did he think she would shed them. It was not the first time he had seen her cry, but it was still a foreign experience.

She suddenly looked more normal than he had ever seen her. There was something humanizing about the fact that see could in fact feel an emotion that could push her to shed tears. Perhaps they had been tears of anger but whatever the reason, he felt a small twinge of guilt. But he quickly suppressed it. He and Thrade had done what was best for her. She could hate him and he could care less, because at least he would not have her death or crippling injury on his conscience.

He pulled at her arm again, and again, she resisted. "Give me your hand," he said with an annoyed tone.

She shook her head and he saw her pull her arms tighter to herself. Fíli let out a huff and roughly grabbed her arm and pulled. He was met with an angry glare but she eventually gave up pulling against him and surrendered her hands to him. With the back of her arms resting on her knees with her inner arm exposed, he gently uncurled her blood crusted fingers to expose her palms.

Fíli cringed at the sight of them. Two deep gashes on each hand. One running along the middle of her palm and the other along the joint line of her fingers and thumb. He could see the meat of her palm, the exposed muscle raw, red, and swollen. Dirty blood layered the sides of each wound and Fíli wondered how she had managed to hide such a painful looking injury.

He let out a sigh and decided that cleaning away the grime and blood needed to be first. Using a handkerchief he had found in his pocket and a bowl of water from the rations that had been provided to them, he began gently dabbing away the bloody mess.

She sat silently with her head bowed, not looking at him as he worked. The occasional twitch of a finger or shift in her wrist was the only reaction he received while cleaning the wounds. Each time he noticed movement he moved more cautiously to clean the wound.

Finally as he finished cleaning away the last of the crusted blood to reveal the full extent of her wounds he opened a small canister Oín had in his pocket that had not been confiscated. It was a simple healing balm, nothing for the pain but Fíli was confident that would make no difference to Thyra.

"That was really stupid of you," he finally said as he began to lightly dab the creamy ointment onto the palms of her hands. "You won't be able to hold your sword properly anymore."

She did not give an immediate response but when she did, it was dull and full of a defeated tone. "I will be fine," she said before adding, "it matters not anyways seeing as I no longer have my sword."

Her last words had a bitter edge to them and he glanced up to see her head lifted just enough for him to see her eyes glowing with unspoken accusations. "I am not going to apologize for what I did," he said, going back to applying the ointment to her second hand. "Weapons can be replaced, your life can't."

"Not that one," she said more to herself than him as she let her head fall back down.

"Why is it so special?"

She gave no answer and he gave no effort to try and pry it out of her. He knew enough about her that if Thyra did not want to answer, there would be no changing her mind. He finished treating her wounds by wrapping them with a few torn strips of fabric from the undershirt he wore. It was not exactly a clean bandage but it was better than nothing. As he tied off the last one, Thyra pulled her hands free of his grasp and folded them back to her chest.

"Your welcome," he said sarcastically.

When she gave no answer he interpreted it as a dismissal but he lingered. Sensing his presence still before her, she glanced up at him. Her right brow lifted quizzically as if to ask why he was still there.

"I won't apologize for what I did and neither should Thrade," he reprimanded. "Those elves could have easily killed you when they tried to take your sword and then again when you resisted in the hall. You are acting like a child throwing a temper tantrum for us saving your life."

Her eyes narrowed. "So I should thank you that I am currently locked away without my sword?"

"Would you rather be gutted and tossed aside because the elves did not want to deal with your inability to know when to comply with a captors wishes."

She flashed her gritted teeth at him in a silent snarl. "You have no idea what you did. That sword is worth more than my life. It is _not_ as you said " _replaceable_ ". You know nothing _Feelig_."

His eye twitched at each syllable of the nickname. "Fine," he spat. "The next time I won't bother to interfere."

With that he got up and stomped to the opposite end of the large cell. He settled into his own corner and when he chanced a glance towards her form he noticed she had gone back to resting her head against her knees. Had it not been for the moment where Bombur paused in his snoring he would not have heard the faint sniff and noticed the slight shaking in her shoulders as she cried again.

* * *

Hours passed, possibly days, it was difficult to know when there was no sight outside. One would think that as a species, dwarves would have natural internal clocks, but when you are weary, caged, and confined, it's difficult to hone in to once instincts.

Thorin had yet to return and Fili was getting worried.

Everyone was asleep now. Everyone except him. He couldn't bring himself to give into the temptation. Not when Thorin was still not back, not when Bilbo was accounted for, not when morale of the company was dissipating with every hour that did or did not pass by. He looked around at those confined within the cell. Their snores and occasional twitches brought a small amount of peace. Kili and Thrade each lay next to Sigurd keeping her small frame warm from the coldness of the dungeons between their combined forces of body heat. Dori, Nori, and Ori were all lined against the wall from oldest to youngest. Bifur, Bofur, and Bomber were spread out in the middle of the cell, each of them lined up from largest to smallest. The others were spread out sporadically. And Thyra, remained in her corner.

Despite his declaration of not caring, she had been the one he had been worried about the most. It was like she was breaking. Something about this place and these events had rattled her. It was disturbing and the pressure and urgency of getting her, getting all of them out of this cell began to weigh upon him.

Like a gift from Mahal, the next thing that happened was an answer to his unspoken prayers. Bilbo showed up out of seemingly nowhere. After several surprised cheers from the waking dwarves who rejoiced to see Bilbo holding up the keys and declaring Thorin was safe in another cell, they all looked to the small hobbit expectantly.

"Well, what's the plan?" They all choired.

 **Some more background history with Thyra. I hope the small glimpses of her past made some sense. We have Fili stepping up a bit a being more of a leader. To those still reading I hope you enjoyed this and I will try to be a little more frequent in working on this story. Had a few new followers and I want to thank you for giving this story a chance. As always let me know what you think and how you are feeling! What do we need more of, what are you wanting to see. And again as always let me know what scenes from the book and/or movie do you want to see. As you know sometimes I do some big time skips so if there is something you want to see for sure let me know! And again, thank you to all those who gave feedback from before, it really helps me know where to go with this.**


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